Traces and Ruminations Artist Statement
I: How do you begin your creative process?
KN: I have lived, worked, and studied in five different countries, including Japan. My creative process and way of living have always been site-specific and deeply intertwined with the social context of each place. Sometimes, my work begins with dialogues with people and listening to their social concerns, while at other times, it starts simply by walking around, repeatedly stopping at certain places. Particularly, when I immerse myself in human stories or lost places, I sometimes feel as if we are actually living in the past. Even though we exist in the present, the things that have already been "created" or "lost" seem to consume the "now" entirely. In those moments, whether there is urgency or not, I try to trace the past and pack it into the present at my own pace, shaping it into something tangible.
I: Could you give a concrete example of a work that has taken shape through such a process?
KN:*double bind* was a performance piece I created by renting an actual storage container in the suburbs of Vienna, in an area filled with monthly rental containers. These containers, protected by countless security cameras and doors, had completely lost their original mobility function. Objects transported in containers typically change value once they move from point A to point B. Things intended for sale are judged under different rules when they cross national borders, and people confined in containers as refugees also undergo a transformation. Once they complete their journey, a different life awaits them. I saw the inside of these surveillance-surrounded containers as liminal spaces where people exist under the constraints of social filters. I divided the container into two spaces using curtains and played a recorded theatrical performance on cassette tapes. The performance continued as I re-recorded the playback sound over and over again until it became nothing like noise. There were no clear answers, but I attempted to capture the process of sound and meaning being gradually erased within the space.
I: *double bind* is a compelling exploration of your own identity and the themes of movement and fixation within social and cultural contexts. The symbolic use of the container highlights both the possibilities and restrictions of movement while addressing the surveillance aspect of identity. The technique of recording and re-recording sound creates an experience of transience, transformation, and disappearance, which is both poetic and sharp. How did the audience react to *double bind*? Did their responses influence your future work?
KN: There were five cassette decks in total. Set A and B acted as the protagonists of the play, weaving a dialogue. Cassette deck C played a recording of Japan's time signals, which represented Japanese time in relation to Vienna's local time. In the space, I also placed all the immigration documents I had been required to submit annually from 2017 to 2021 in Vienna, alongside bags of rice weighing the same as those documents. The local audience was particularly curious about the time signals and the rice, and I received many questions about them afterward. Some viewers suggested that having an explanation might have been beneficial.
I: Did you provide an explanation?
KN: I struggled with that decision but ultimately left the space untouched. With *double bind*, I wanted the audience to experience the liminal space between two cultures through one body, so I felt it was acceptable for some things to remain incomprehensible from a Western perspective. When presenting work to an audience from a completely different context, I constantly wrestle with how much I should adjust my perspective to align with Western standards.
I: That anecdote highlights the cultural dissonance and struggles you face. Your work clarifies that messages and experiences may not always be immediately accessible to all audiences. However, this also seems to clarify the fundamental question: "Who are you creating for, and what do you want to express?" From your *double bind* experience, how have your approaches to Western dominance and cultural dissonance evolved? Additionally, how do you balance "not over-explaining" with "maintaining accessibility" in your work?
KN: One solution is to bring the subject closer to myself or an individual perspective. By using "I" as the subject, the work becomes both personal and universal, allowing audiences to find relatable elements even without sharing the same background. Another approach is to provide supplementary materials for those who seek additional explanations when introducing culturally specific elements, such as the rice bags.
I: Have there been any particularly memorable reactions from the audience? How might these responses influence your future work?
KN: People seem to experience intense feelings of unease and impact. For instance, the container also incorporated natural elements. If it rained, the sound of the cassettes would be drowned out by the raindrops. I never thought of controlling such elements since I grew up in a culture that coexists with nature. I also don't feel the need to fill in gaps or silences. To me, silence is an eloquent language. This approach appears to be entirely novel for those from monotheistic cultures, where nature is often seen as something to control, and words must exhaustively explain everything.
I: That perspective is fascinating. Your acceptance of nature and silence gives your work a unique texture. The refusal to "control" or "fill in" gaps challenges the audience and sparks meaningful dialogue. By leaving space for interpretation, what kinds of discussions or reflections do you hope your work will inspire? When you observe audiences interacting with these gaps, what new insights or emotions emerge for you?
KN: When silence stretches, the audience starts to feel anxious. They wonder if something has gone wrong. Suddenly, they become self-aware. At home, they could fast-forward through a scene on Netflix, but in a theatrical space, they can only wait. While waiting, they engage in an internal dialogue—questioning themselves and forming impressions of the work. This is what I hope for. However, I do not deliberately create silence; my work naturally contains much of it, and I choose not to fill those spaces.
I: So, even without clear answers, something is essential in the experience of "feeling." You mentioned the space "between understanding and feeling." How do you create this "feeling" within your work? Do you have a specific approach?
KN: this is a universal question for anyone involved in artistic practice. I always conduct narrative research, whether it involves my own experiences or encounters with people and places. Through this research, I become the initial medium for feeling. Since I want to create works with warmth and emotional depth, I ensure my process includes experiencing multi-layered emotions and circumstances firsthand.
I: Finally, what themes and methods would you like to explore moving forward? Do you have a vision for how you will express these feelings?
KN: I am considering relocating my base to Japan soon. Over the past ten years, I have accumulated experiences I want to visualize. One key theme is "glocalization"—examining the intersection of global perspectives and local experiences. I want to explore the "gradient world" born from this intersection, viewed through the lens of my own roots. Another theme is loneliness. Moving between countries and living as a nomad, even by choice, has been a battle with solitude. If this is true for someone like me, who chose this path, what about those forced to migrate? Beyond humans, I also want to consider how non-human life forms survive in unfamiliar environments. I wish to engage in dialogues with people, places, and beings(non-human).
I: Thank you. I look forward to hearing more about your journey and creations in the future.
KN: Thank you. I look forward to speaking with you again.
in Germany 2025