Thursday July 10th, On Kawara passed on from this plateau to another. Most of us would be echoing the same sentiment, "I never knew you at all," a comment that probably would have been pleasing to this very private soul. He left quietly, pretty much the same as he entered and this was fitting for a man whose "existentialism" pretty much dictated the course of his life. As far as i can ascertain, he was hardly ever photographed or interviewed during his life so he has taken his cloak of anonymity with him to the grave. It's a novel flourish, exiting the art world stage without having been seen (i exaggerate) in the first place. One could view such an act with cynicism if it weren't for the evidence of his life which shows a man living out his philosophical convictions unwaveringly to the last breath. I don't know about you but i have to admire a man like that in an age where hypocrisy is almost lauded as "de rigueur" and personal integrity is thrown out the minute the scent of commercial reward wafts through the air.
On Kawara abandoned figurative painting somewhere in the early 60's and embraced a more conceptual art practice encompassing his central concerns with time, space, consciousness, life and death. Much of his work centres around his preoccupation with time and its function as a measuring tool for human existence. He meticulously recorded time (his time) and its passing by adopting various methods of recording the fact of his existence through postcards announcing he "got up at", "i am still alive", "i went", "i met", "i read" and "Date" paintings rigorously completed the very same day otherwise trashed. His great work consists of books filled with chronological date listings for "one hundred years" and "one million years." These were read in turn by two readers sitting in a glass booth in the gallery and audible throughout the whole gallery space. The sheer singularity of focus and consistency in his practice is enough to convince me of his greatness. In fact, there are only a few artists that i'm aware of that were as consistent daily in their practice as On Kawara.
On Kawara abandoned figurative painting somewhere in the early 60's and embraced a more conceptual art practice encompassing his central concerns with time, space, consciousness, life and death. Much of his work centres around his preoccupation with time and its function as a measuring tool for human existence. He meticulously recorded time (his time) and its passing by adopting various methods of recording the fact of his existence through postcards announcing he "got up at", "i am still alive", "i went", "i met", "i read" and "Date" paintings rigorously completed the very same day otherwise trashed. His great work consists of books filled with chronological date listings for "one hundred years" and "one million years." These were read in turn by two readers sitting in a glass booth in the gallery and audible throughout the whole gallery space. The sheer singularity of focus and consistency in his practice is enough to convince me of his greatness. In fact, there are only a few artists that i'm aware of that were as consistent daily in their practice as On Kawara.
After my initial discovery of On Kawara back in 1998 (in the University of Tasmania library) i was perplexed by his art and any relation it might have had to my (at the time) constructed abstractions. There seemed to be no link between his early and late work, the former of which were mostly highly figurative paintings of a rather ghoulish nature. Somewhere between the late fifties and the early sixties his work took a dramatic shift from macabre, apocalyptic compositions to more austere, cerebral works including his postcards and paintings. I can't say for sure what happened to the artist but it almost seems as if he had an epiphany, a "road to Damascus" revelation, where the ghosts of the past (atomic devastation in Japan) were washed away and he took a sharp right turn in his thinking toward his art and the future.
I'm willing to wager that his pre-occupation with, "still being alive" is indelibly linked to the unspeakable horror of nuclear destruction in Japan. Somehow the artist put the shock and devastation behind him and birthed a quiet phoenix from the ashes of his past which continues to rise in its importance to the conceptual/biographical art of the late 20th century.
I'm willing to wager that his pre-occupation with, "still being alive" is indelibly linked to the unspeakable horror of nuclear destruction in Japan. Somehow the artist put the shock and devastation behind him and birthed a quiet phoenix from the ashes of his past which continues to rise in its importance to the conceptual/biographical art of the late 20th century.
It's taken awhile for On Kawara to filter on down into my understanding of contemporary art practice and all the many things it can be. These days i feel a sort of belated kinship with him because of his interest in the clinical, scientific observation and recording of his everyday life. It is obsessive, granted, but human and kind of childlike in its intensity to declare "presence" (his) and insist on "recognition" (attention) from others over such an extended period of time. Is it finding a great thing and "sticking with it" all the way or in the process of making, gradually finding your identity so inseparable from the work that a kind of resignation sets in? Maybe only On Kawara knows the answer and took that understanding to the grave with him.
I'm still trying to position myself in relation to his work but i believe i'm closer to seeing that link than before. I see the transcendence in his daily confessions. I got up, i read, i met, i went, i'm still alive, are all statements affirming triumph over anonymity, insignificance, banality and death. These are bold assertions declaring, "I tried", "I took action and refused to give in to the daily entropy pulling me down and threatening to erase the memory of my life." I see these artworks as an encouragement to all, to try again, never give up, make something out of your life. This is the "existent residual humanity" in his work and it offers hope to all.
On Kawara may be gone but his work is sheer poetry, a beautiful and exquisitely refined succession of visual Haiku declaring, "See, i am still alive."
I'm still trying to position myself in relation to his work but i believe i'm closer to seeing that link than before. I see the transcendence in his daily confessions. I got up, i read, i met, i went, i'm still alive, are all statements affirming triumph over anonymity, insignificance, banality and death. These are bold assertions declaring, "I tried", "I took action and refused to give in to the daily entropy pulling me down and threatening to erase the memory of my life." I see these artworks as an encouragement to all, to try again, never give up, make something out of your life. This is the "existent residual humanity" in his work and it offers hope to all.
On Kawara may be gone but his work is sheer poetry, a beautiful and exquisitely refined succession of visual Haiku declaring, "See, i am still alive."
