Review
   

白い時間


玄侑宗久
Gen’yū Sōkyū
 同じお寺に住み、制作する場面を見る機会のある私は殊更だが、初めて見る人でも、おそらくこの作品には膨大な時間を感じることだろう。
 細切れの、小さな時間の集積が、光のなかに佇んでいるのである。
 初めは色のあった彼女の紙縒たちが、いつしか白くなった。その間に彼女は父を送り、母と永訣した。
 その体験と作品の白い色とは、たぶん無関係ではない。
 お寺に寄せられたお供え物の包装紙をそのまま使っていたときは、違った紙の色がそれぞれの包装紙の個別な歴史を感じさせた。
 色と歴史は直接関係ないのだが、それでも各々が違った気持ちを包み、違った時間を運んできたと感じさせたのである。
 しかし白くなってしまうと、そこには夥しい時間はあるのだが歴史はなくなった気がする。替わりに歴史を超えた時間、つまり「永遠」が感じられるのだ。
 白は仏教的には菩提心を表し、また東洋的なほかの宗教でも聖なる色だ。
 それは時間も空間も超えた何者かが宿ろうとする場所でもあるだろう。
 しかし何者かが宿ろうとするのを常に拒絶し、反射してしまうから白は白であり続ける。
 反射されたものはいったい何で、どこへ向かうのだろう。
 それはきっと、見る人と、その状況によってめまぐるしく変化するに違いない。
 しかしすべての光が合わさった白い光の中には、永遠にすべてがあることは確かだ。
 なにも急ぐことはない。
 だからこそ仏教ではそれを、遙かなる目標を永遠に求め続ける菩提心の象徴と考えたのだから……。

2004年 8月
Being in Unlimited Relations
Sometimes, we might encounter the situation in which we cannot do anything well. And sometimes we feel ourselves helpless, in the enviroment we cannot move of our own will. Of course when we lost the lover, we’ll also fall into the same feeling. In such cases, we might feel lonely and hopeless, with lack of sympathy by the other nor of meaning of what we are here.
Maybe, during our whole life, we might experience such cases not only once.
When I was in such depths of despair, I felt Buddha’s words dropping down to my mind. That is, “Tenjou tenge yuiga dokuson”, which means holy am I independently throughout heaven and earth.
I felt everybody ,everytime and everywhere, has one’s total possibility equaly. And I felt suddenly, there is no limit of time and space in myself. We indivisual selves exist on just now in unlimited relations of everything.
This work is a kind of expression of my such glad enlightenment.
Please feel it as if you are standing in the center of the lower paper pieces.

August 2004 novel writer Gen’yū Sōkyū

Spirits through Fingers


Ko・yo・ri into Caelum
On the floor of the Museum of Costume and Lace in Brussels, occupying seven square meters, a white misty zone kept aloft for two months to attract the attention of visitors in2000. It was the Queen Fabiola’s Grand Prix winning piece by ISHIDA Tomoko at the 9th International Lace Biennial-Contemporary Art.
Entitled Co-Twisted(Reflected Self), it represented distinctive features of her works. From distance it looked fragile. Coming closer, the piece of art work revealed itself to be a mass of hundreds and thousands of fragments of white paper, revealing to the eyes of the viewers the tactile quality of frost.
They were carefully placed on a mirror framed with grey borders, which not only to serve as a partition but also to avoid reflecting the viewers. Four centimeter thick, accumulated, hand twisted paper was multiplied by the mirror. There was coexistence of unique contrasts between fragility and stability, segment and totality, serenity around and energy sealed within her work.

It was not the first time that Ishida Tomoko obtained international recognition. In 1998 at the 9th International Triennial of Tapestry in Poland her Co-Twisted V won the Grand Prix and the Central Museum of Textile Award at the same time, followed by the Lillian Elliott Award at Fort Collins, U.S.A. Both works were composed of the countless hand-twisted paper hung from the ceiling, giving the effect of a sea of clouds soaring into great hights.

When requested for permanent installation by the newly established Kankaku Museum(the museum in Miyagi Prefecture built in 2002 for both the handicapped and the non-handicapped, to have a collection of works appealing to all senses,)Ishida once again challenged with Co-Twisted VI and filled the curved space of one hundred and fifty square meters.
The original of the hand-twisted paper work was first introduced in 1993 at Fukushima Prefectural Museum. Hung against the largest wall, the weightless cloud overspread the entire area to impart its beauty to the space.
It fronted the two forerunners’ works on the floor, wafted pieces of golden cloth by Yoshida Teruyoshi and rows of transparent cubes orderly lined by Yoshimura Masao. Coming into the area created by the three art works from two generations the visitors immediately fell into silence, and left their miscellaneous affairs behind and felt one with its gentle tranquility.

While attending Seika College of Kyoto, in Ishida Tomoko’s class of weaving and dyeing she felt the beauty of the natural cloth. To this sensitive student imposing one’s intention on the cloth seemed to spoil the sole nature of the material. First she simply sewed a piece of cloth, pulled the thread tight or loose at different sections, finding an unexpected expression on the surface of the cloch. The new texture arose from twisting and shrinking and it brought forth the reflection of clear light and soft shadow, thus a piece of flat cloth became a three-dimensional object.
One of her professors was Japan’s representative artist in fiber Yoshimura Masao, who was then able to use a one-hundred-meter long cloth to create an unprecedented, solid piece of art work. Closely observing his attitude toward materials, Ishida newly devised a traditional and natural technique to apply to the cloth, clean finishing the individual work with a well-thought-out installation, consciously or unconsciously, absorbed all into her mind and body.

Ishida showed a series of Rui Rui-Jyo Jyo in the 1990’s. They were indicative of another direction of her creative repertory, which were solidified objects on the floor. They were made out of used printed paper, shredded or cut round. The only similarty was the mass composed of countless pieces. Of these works the roundness and endless multiplication and expansion as the title indicated stimulated nostalgia for men being in a multitude. It might be noteworthy to recall that Ishida Tomoko was born as the youngest to the prominent family of a rice dealer in Osaka. She grew up in close touch with straw-knitted round rice bags piled up ceiling high, and the flavour of rice being cleansed filled the entire store.

Her marriage in the mid winter of 1991 to a Buddhist priest, the vice pastor of an eminent Zen temple in Tohoku Region, was in fact a self-transplant into an entirely different circumstance in every respect. She went from the large city of Osaka, where ample textile materials were within reach, to a rural town of Fukushima Prefecture. Yet her new home and temple in Miharu is known to the rest of Japan for its cherry trees in the shape of weeping-willow which have stood for several centuries. Countless soft pink buds come to be in full bloom to please the eyes for only one week every spring and soon after their petals are blown as flower storms against the clear sky to finally land on the temple garden carpeting it in pale pink.
The life at the temple is full of liturgical activities in addition to the household chores. Ishida Tomoko accepted every one of them, trying to find time in between and material nearby for her art work. To the temple the faithful visit with offerings to Buddha. They come with neatly wrapped papers and also with wishes, thoughs and intentions of the donors. Ishida began to cut them into small pieces and to twist them one by one with her finger tips.It neither demanded a continued lenght of time, nor required a spacious atelier. In between calls, visits, and sudden breaks, she was able to complete a piece. Called Ko・yo・ri, this application of hand-twisting technique to the paper became her way of creating the unique art works, the multiplication of the fragments. And it resulted in a diary of her temple life, recording every moment of her being.

In 2001 her husband Gen’yū Sōkyū became the winner of the best-known literary award Akutagawa Prize for his Flowers in Limbo, in which he portrayed his wife and her work.

In the spring of the following year of 2002 Ishida Tomoko was asked by the Kitakata City Museum to create a piece for a space with the width of seven meters. A thick straight linear work was hoisted from wall to wall at the eye level, parallel to the floor. Named Collective Unconscious the pure-white ko・yo・ri floated still, en masse in the air. Every piece that had touched the hands of the artist for a fragment of time no longer existed as a physical object. Holding the clarity of construction, it was vanishing into the space. Thickly piled, it kept resonance with their shadows. There observed a unification of the ephemeral and the real, an assurance of spiritual being.
Each work was created out of the integral part of Ishida’s life in different phases, particularly at the deaths of her kindred, as repose of the departed souls. As an artist she had an urge to express her feelings, observations, and convictions that she attained sduring the period of mourning. Just as her husband completed another thought-provoking literary piece, Amitahba, collective unconscious was placed in the Kitakata City Museum by Ishida upon bidding farewell toher mother.

Every piece of twisted ko・yo・ri has led through the walk of Ishida Tomoko to being an artist who is cable of lifting up the souls of the viewers.

©Text by Kuniko Lucy Kato
Sapporo, Japan
May 15, 2004
   

拈紙象心 〜
石田智子の世界


佐治 ゆかり
郡山市立美術館館長

 石田智子の創作は、紙という素材の特性を究めた二つの方向をもつ。主要な表現ともいえる紙撚による作品は、紙の柔軟さと無重力性を生かした浮遊感が魅力である。
 一方、紙屑を凝集したり、紙片を折り畳んで作られた作品は、紙という素材の「量塊、強固」を露わにし、求心力を強く秘める。
 石田にとって作ることは、自性の挙動、現れであって、日々の暮らしの中で、泣いたり笑ったり、愚痴を言い、手を動かしながら、それが新しいイメージやアイディアを生んでいく筋道となる。作ること自体が、気力を生み、石田を前へと押していく力になってきたのだろう。
 それゆえに、見る者は、無限の天地の間で、ささやかに、しかし確かに営まれる生の煌めきを慈しむ作者の気持ちが、直接自分の心に移ってくるようで、静かな悦びと不思議な安堵感に浸される。
 
 石田智子は、1958 年12 月25 日に大阪市の米商の家に5人兄姉の末子として生まれた。両親、兄姉、使用人や寄寓者など、常に多くの人が出入りし共に暮らす環境で育った。周囲がどれほど忙しく立ち働いていても、その傍らで、一人眠り、遊んでいるような子供だった。この頃から特に紙が好きで、身近な文房具をいかに綺麗に包むか、どれほど細く紙を切り刻むことができるか、そんなことに夢中になっていたという。
 高校3年の秋、偶然見た「今日の造形〈織〉―ヨーロッパと日本」(京都国立近代美術館、1976年9 月29 日~ 11 月14 日)に、石田は大きな衝撃を受ける。アバカノヴィッチや堀内紀子など国内外の作家たちによる斬新な作品の表情は、素材としての糸、布の可能性、「織り」という源初的な技術が、伝統の染織分野、工芸やクラフトの枠を超えて、時代の様相をダイナミックに捉え得るものであることを体感した。
 京都精華大学美術学部染織科で学び始めた石田は、2年生の時、講師であった吉村正郎(1946 ~2017)に師事する。吉村は日本を代表するファイバー・アーティストの一人で、徹底的に糸、布の可能性を究め、それらを息づかせる行為、表現にこだわり続けた。吉村の純粋さと篤実な人柄は、多くの学生に愛され慕われた。作品の斬新さだけでなく、遊ぶこと、皆で語り合い何かをしているうちに生まれてくるものを大事にすること、日常の中に感性を磨くこと、そうした基本的なことを、学生たちは吉村の生きる姿勢から受けとめた。
 大学卒業後、石田は、「縫う」ことによって変容する布の表情を生かした表現に取り組んだ。その一方で、倉敷紡績などの依頼を受けて、ハンドスピニング(手紡ぎで糸を作る)の仕事をするようになる。
 短い毛足の羊毛などから繊維を引出し、撚りを掛けて糸状にしていく、熟練を要する技術である。糸作りで重要なことは、繊維を熟知することと、撚りの技術である。撚りによって初めて、糸は糸の形態を維持し、その加減や方向によって、糸の表情や性質は決定される。石田は、新しい糸や製品開発を任され、全国各地で指導するなど、糸作りのエキスパートとしても活躍した。
 1991 年、石田は、作家で僧侶の玄侑宗久氏と結婚する。婚家の福聚寺は臨済宗妙心寺派の禅寺で、多くの檀家を抱える東北有数の名刹であった。これまでとは全く異なる場所、環境、多忙な寺家の暮らしのなかで、石田の創作の姿勢も変化していった。布ではなく、紙による表現、紙撚を作るようになったのは、供物の包装紙がきっかけだった。物を包むだけでなく、人々の様々な思いも運んでくる包装紙に注目し、許される時間と場所でできる紙撚作りを導き糸にして、制作への思いを繋いだ。
 何かを作る人にとって、自分が心を託す素材や方法は、決して偶然ではない。新たな環境で石田が手にするようになったのは、それまでの布ではなく紙であった。それが単に入手し易いという理由だけでなく、材質や色、加工の違いによる紙の表情のおもしろさに気づいた石田の鋭さは、幼い頃からの紙への親近性、仕事でずっと関わり続けてきた繊維への深い理解と無縁ではないだろう。
 また、撚るという行為は、石田にとっては深く身についていた糸作りの基本技術であった。両手の親指と人差し指を巧みに連動させて紙片を捻り、撚りをかけて、わずか十数秒で一本の紙撚を生み出す。
 触覚、知覚、伝達、思考、あらゆる機能が連繋する総合器官としての指、手は、最小で最強の道具であった。紙を撚ることは、「日記を付けるように、一瞬々々の私を刻み込むような」行為であり、無心に繰り返される儀式のようでもあった。その行為は、自らの実存を確認するわずかな手がかりだったのかもしれないが、結果として蓄積されていく無数の紙撚は、物量として、やがて生み出される「作品」への予感を徐々に確かなものとし、心を支え、大きく世界を構想するおもしろさをもたらした。紙撚を見ながら、いろいろな形を考え、もやもやしているそんな状態の時に、展覧会等の出品依頼が来ると、にわかにイメージが展開し始めるのであった。
 少しずつ貯めていた紙撚が初めて作品になったのは、1993 年の「ファイバー・アート 糸と布の可能性」展(1993 年2 月6 日-3 月21 日、福島県立美術館)である。この展覧会のために既に布を取り寄せていたにも拘わらず、石田はそれ以前と全く異なる紙、紙撚による表現に挑戦した。そうして立ち現れたのは春霞と見紛うばかりに幻想的な空間だった。
 この展覧会は、私自身も学芸員として関わっていたのでよく覚えているが、紙撚を団塊状に吊る難しさ、全体のバランスや配置がなかなか思うようにいかず、宗久氏も加わって、皆であちこちを支えながら、何とか展示した。しかし作品の麗しさや浮遊感とは裏腹に、包装紙ごとに異なる物質的特性、紙撚自体の強度の問題(撚りが甘いなど)が徐々に素性を顕し、時間とともに作品に想定外の変容をもたらし、会期中は目が離せなかった。
 こうした素材の抵抗は、その後の作家のイメージ作りや思考の流れ、造形に影響を及ぼした。作品として展示する経験を通じて、紙撚作りやイメージを構想する段階とは別に、作品として造形化する過程には、合理的思考と確かな構成力が求められることを経験した。大きな作品を作る場合、数十万本の紙撚が使われ、半端な重量ではない。イメージを過不足なく表現するための、適度で確かな構造を常に模索し、展示をサポートしてくれる仲間と共に工夫し試み、そこにしかない作品を生み出した。
 2000 年、最愛の母の病と向き合っていた頃、石田は、自作の「色」に疑問を感じるようになる。
 包装紙による紙撚の集合体が偶然生み出す色の美しさは、石田作品の大きな魅力だったが、それがかえって、心や手の存在を見えなくしてしまっていることに気づいた。色に限界を感じた石田は、白一色の作品作りに取り組むようになり、素材を白い包装紙へと変えた。白一色の紙撚の作品は、以前に増して、心の動向や手の過程を鮮明に浮かび上がらせ、浄らかに照り映え、陰影を深めた。紙撚の突起と軸は生気を帯び、ニューロン(脳の神経細胞)のようにどこかとどこかが微かに触れながら、徐々に空へと伸展してゆく。無心に撚ったはずの一本一本が、繋がり、蠢き、作者が思ってもいなかった別の世界を生み出していった。
 石田の作品は、自由な連想、解釈を楽しむことができる鷹揚さをもつが、作品名は作者と作品への理解を扶ける大事な要素である。《集合的無意識》、《一切の中の「一」》、《静静流転》、《而生其心》など、経典や文学などに由来する文言、思惟を表す言葉が付されていることが多い。制作の意図や思いに素直に言葉が浮かぶ場合もあるが、悩む時には、宗久氏に思いを語り、その内容にふさわしい言葉を一緒に考えることもあるという。自分では考えているつもりだったことが、言葉にすると、作品がまるで違って見えたり、突如として言葉が自分の世界を押し広げてしまったことに気づくこともある。それは、作者にも作品を見る側にも、同様の作用をもたらしているかもしれない。
紙を折り畳み、その塊を重ねたり、断面を並べたりして作る作品も、2000 年頃から始まっている。紙片を、撚るのではなく折り畳むことによって現われる存在感、断面の表情の豊かさを石田は面白がった。紙撚と同様に、紙と手の素朴な関係の結果でありながら、紙撚とは正反対の紙の姿を追究したものである。  2011 年、東日本大震災は、石田の日常も環境も大きく変えた。地震よりもむしろ原発事故による放射能汚染によって引きおこされた理不尽な状況は、今も拭いきれないまま暮らしを覆っている。自らも被災者でありながら、避難してくる人々を受け入れる側でもあった石田にとって、日々直面する現実は厳しいものだった。
 震災後間もなくから、様々な作家たちが、アートで支援するために被災地を訪れたが、石田は長い間、制作に取り組むことができなかった。しかし、原発事故により全村民が三春町に避難してきていた葛尾村の女性たちとの交流を通して、共に何かを作ること、生み出すことが、生きることに直接繋がる営為であることを実感し、自分が今、何をすべきかを改めて考えるようになった。
 2018 年、ポーランドの美術館から展覧会の依頼を受けた。しばしの逡巡の後、石田は7年振りに制作に取り組んだ。“BUDDYDM”と題された展覧会に、手の仕事の原点に立ち返った《むすんでひらいて》、葛尾村の人々とともに折り、重ね、一つになって作った作品も展示した。石田の心と造形力が静かに確かに復活していることを示した。
 
 2019 年末、この展覧会の準備をしながら、石田と私たちは驚くような光の体験をした。その時、私たちは空間のイメージを掴むために、仮の作品を置いて展示室の広さや雰囲気を確認していた。会場は、直前までの展覧会の設営のままで、三方の壁がガラス面だったのだが、偶然、その三面に作品が映り込み、重々無尽に交錯しつつ、無限の奥行きをもった光の空間を作り出していた。「これやったんや!」、言い放たれた石田の言葉に誰もが頷いた。光明がすべての存在を包み込み統一する宇宙のような空間との遭遇だった。
 拈紙象心。華ならぬ紙を拈りて心を象る。石田の造形は、常に、この時、この場所故に立ち現われる、ここにしか存在しないものである。郡山市立美術館の空間だからこそ現れる世界は、もちろん作者自身さえ、まだ見たことはない。

Nenshi zoshin


Paper, not flowers, are twisted to model the heart
The World of ISHIDA Tomoko
SAJI Yukari
Director, Koriyama City Museum of Art
The works of Ishida Tomoko show how she has mastered two aspects of paper as a material. Her works that use koyori which is her main form of expression are attractive because of their sense of floating that is possible by using the feelings of flexibility and weightlessness made possible by paper. Conversely, her works that clump together scraps of paper or fold together bits of paper expose the properties of “massing and strength” that show the strong potential of paper as a unifying material.
For Ishida, creating is an action and representation of her individuality. When she cries, laughs, and complains in her everyday life, she does so while moving her hands. This is her process to make new images and ideas. The act of creating itself seems to have given Ishida vigor and has probably pushed her forward. This is why those who see her works see, in the infinite universe, her feelings of love toward subtle but definite sparkles of life. It seems as if these feelings reach out to our hearts and let us enjoy a quiet joy and a sense of relief.
Ishida Tomoko was born on December 25, 1958, to a rice merchant in Osaka. She was the youngest of five children. She grew up in an environment in which her parents, siblings, employees, visitors, and many other people were always bustling about and working. No matter how busy her surroundings were, she was the kind of child who could sleep and play by herself. She already had an affinity for paper at this time. She was always wondering how to wrap stationery around her so that it looked its best or how finely she could cut paper.
When Ishida was in the 12th grade, she happened upon an exhibition called “Modeling Today – Europe and Japan” (The National Museum of Art, Kyoto, September 29 to November 14, 1976). This exhibition left a lasting impression on her. The new works of international and domestic artists such as Magdalena Abakanowicz and Horiuchi Toshiko far exceeded the traditional dyeing, arts, and crafts fields with their original techniques using thread as a material, discovering the possibilities of cloth, and using weaving in new ways. Ishida felt that they represented the times in a dynamic fashion.
Ishida went to Kyoto Seika University where she studied dyeing textiles in the Faculty of Art. When she was a sophomore, she studied under Yoshimura Masao (1946 – 2017) who was a lecturer. Yoshimura was one of Japan’s most famous fiber artists who thoroughly pursued the possibilities of thread and cloth. In order to bring life to these materials, he continued trying different ways to present them. Yoshimura’s pure and sincere personality earned him the admiration of many students. His works were not only original, but he also tried to convey the importance of being playful, placing importance on things that are born from talking among friends, and improving one’s sensitivity in daily life. His students understood those basic things by seeing how he lived.

After graduating, Ishida started to express herself by utilizing the various ways textiles change their appearance when sewn. At the same time, she received requests from Kurabo Industries and others for hand spinning (making thread by hand) projects. This is a technique that requires quite a degree of skill because fiber must be extracted from short wool and then twisted together to make thread. The important things in making thread are thorough knowledge of the fibers being used and the techniques of twisting them together. It is only when the fibers are twisted together does thread become thread, and how strongly one twists the fibers and the direction in which they are twisted will determine the appearance and quality of the thread. Ishida became an expert at making thread so that she was given responsibility for developing new thread products and instructed others in thread-making throughout Japan.
In 1991, Ishida married the author and Buddhist priest Gen’yu Sokyu. Her husband was the priest of Fukujuji Temple, a Zen temple of the Myoshinji school of the Rinzai sect. This temple is one of the most famous in the northeastern part of Japan with many parishioners. Because she was thrown into a totally different place and environment and living in a busy temple, Ishida’s approach towards creating started to change. The reason that she changed from working with textiles to using paper in the form of koyori was because of the paper used to wrap offerings made to the temple. She focused on the fact that the paper was not only wrapping the contents of the offerings but also the various feelings of the people making the offerings. Using the limited time and space available to her, she used koyori to connect and go back to her creative self.
For people who make things, the materials and methods that they devote themselves to do not come about by chance. In her new environment, Ishida took up paper instead of the textiles that she had used previously. The reason was not only because it was easy to acquire. Ishida realized that paper had many different and interesting expressions due to its qualities, colors, and finishes. This realization probably had something to do with her affinity for paper since she was a child and her deep understanding of fibers from her many years of working with them.
Moreover, the act of twisting things together was a basic technique in making thread – something which was deeply embedded within her. Using the thumbs and index fingers of both hands to skillfully twist pieces of paper will make a koyori in a little over ten seconds. The fingers and hands are a general instrument that combines the functions of feel, awareness, communication, and thinking, making them the smallest and strongest tools. Twisting paper became an act “akin to writing a diary in which I was embedding a part of myself every moment.” It was like a repetitious ritual in which to become absorbed. This act might have been a small way of confirming her own existence, but the uncountable koyori that resulted were slowly becoming a precursor to the “works” that would eventually follow and they gave her hope and joy in conceiving a bigger world. Looking at the koyori, she could think of the many possible shapes. When she was absorbed in this way and there was a request for a work for an exhibit, she started to develop an image before she knew it.
The first time the koyori she had accumulated became a work was in the 1993 “Fiber Art: The Possibilities of Thread and Cloth” exhibit (February 6 to March 21, 1993, Fukushima Prefectural Museum of Art).
Although Ishida had already procured some cloth for this exhibit, she decided to use paper and koyori which were completely different from anything she had done in the past. The result was a wondrous space that one could mistake for haze in the springtime.
I remember this exhibition well because I took part as one of the curators. It was difficult to hang masses of koyori and achieving the overall balance and layout was also hard. Sokyu also became involved and we somehow completed the exhibit by helping one another. Although the work was beautiful and seemed to be floating in the air, the characteristics of the different wrapping paper and the strength of the koyori themselves (different tightness of twists, etc.) gradually became obvious, so that the work changed in unexpected ways as time passed and we had to pay attention to it for the entire period of the exhibition. This “resistance” by the material affected the images the artist had, the flow of her thoughts, and modeling. By having the experience of exhibiting her works, she came upon a phase that was different from making koyori and conceiving different images. By trying to bring shape to her works, she experienced the need for rational thought and the ability to compose sound works. In the case of a major work, tens of thousands of koyori, a mindboggling number, are necessary. In order to express her image as she imagined it, she always had to look for an appropriate and sound structure. She made many innovations with her colleagues who provided support for her exhibits and this led to works that were only available in one place.
In 2000 when Ishida was concerned about her ill mother, she started to question the “colors” of her works. The beauty of the colors that just happen to be created by massing together koyori made from wrapping paper was a major attraction of Ishida’s work, but she realized that that was masking her mind and hands. Because Ishida felt the limits to using color, she started to use only white wrapping paper. Koyori works made only in white made how her mind moves and how her works are created using her hands clearer than ever before, they looked purer, and made the nuances more profound. The protuberances and axes of the koyori came to life because they would touch each other like neurons and seem to gradually reach up to the sky. Each of the koyori which had been created without obstructive thoughts became connected, wriggled around, and created a world that was different from anything the artist had imagined. Ishida’s works allow us to make free associations and interpret things as we like, but the names of the works are important elements that help us to understand the artist and the works. In many instances, words from sutras and literature or words that represent contemplation are used, such as “Collective Unconscious,” “Being Unlimited Relations,” “Calmness in the Changing Life,” and “Original Pure Mind Comes Out.” Ishida has said that there are some instances in which the intent of the work or the thoughts behind it come out directly, but when they don’t, she sometimes tells Sokyu her thoughts, and they come up with words that fit her thoughts. She sometimes thinks that she is thinking by herself, but when put into words the work looks very different. She has also found that there are times when certain words have expanded her world. It is possible that these words are having a similar effect on both the artist and the people looking at a work. Around 2000, Ishida also started to make works in which she folded paper, piled it on top of each other, and lined up cross-sections. Ishida found that folding paper instead of twisting it was interesting because it presented a different quality and there were many different expressions possible in the cross-sections. Although they were also the result of the unsophisticated relation between paper and hands in the same manner as koyori, she was pursuing a form that was the total opposite of koyori.
The Great East Japan Earthquake in 2011 caused a major change in Ishida’s daily life and her environment. Even more than the earthquake, the outrageous situation caused by the radiation pollution from the nuclear power plant accident still affects her life. Although Ishida, too, was a victim of the earthquake, she was also helping evacuees looking for help and the daily realities that she faced were difficult.

Shortly after the earthquake, various artists visited the affected areas to give their support through art, but Ishida was not able to make any of her own work for quite a while. However, through her exchanges with the women of Katsurao village from which the entire population had evacuated to Miharu because of the nuclear power plant accident, Ishida truly felt that making something together, creating something, was something that was directly connected to living. So, she started to think about what she should do. In 2018, Ishida received a request for an exhibition from a museum in Poland. After some hesitation, she started on a work for the first time in seven years. This exhibition was entitled “BUDDYDM.” Ishida returned to her roots of “opening and closing,” i.e., working with her hands. Together with the people of Katsurao village, they folded, piled paper, and worked as one to create a work for the exhibition. This showed that Ishida’s heart and ability to create were quietly but surely coming back.
At the end of 2019, while we were preparing this exhibition, Ishida and we literally experienced a surprising light. We had placed a temporary work to check the size and atmosphere of the exhibit room so that we could get an idea of what the space would look like. The venue was still preparing for the exhibition up until the last moment, and three of the walls were glass surfaces. Suddenly, the work was reflected in the three glass surfaces, the reflections blended together continuously, and a light space with an infinite depth was created. Ishida said, “This is it!” and we all nodded at those words. We had encountered something akin to outer space in which light encompasses all existence and makes it one. Nenshi zoshin – paper, not flowers, are twisted to model the heart. Ishida’s works are always limited to a certain time and a certain place. They only exist in that place and at that time. The world that is created at the Koriyama City Museum of Art is something that not even the artist herself has seen yet.

紙こより撚が結ぶもの


新田 量子
郡山市立美術館 学芸員

 暗がりの中にふわっと咲き、浮かび、やわらかに揺らぐようなもの…。その空間に足を踏み入れ、近くに寄ってみると、それが無数の細い物体の集積であることに気づく。紙をさまざまなかたちで用いた作品を制作する作家、石田智子は、紙撚によって幻想的な世界を作り上げる。
 大阪出身の石田は、福島県三春町の寺に嫁ぎ、そこで生活するようになると、生まれ育ったにぎやかな商店街とはまったく異なる慣れない環境の中で、膨大な寺の仕事を日々こなした。その中で、「このお菓子、主人が好きだったんです」「息子が好きだったお菓子です」と参拝者が持参する菓子折り。
 石田は差し出された包みに、人々の〈気持ち〉を感じた。石田自身も過去に経験した、大切な人を失う悲しみや怒り、喪失感といった、どこにも持っていきようのない想いが、そこに包まれているような気がした。もともと布という繊維素材を用いて制作をしていた石田は、菓子折りを包んでいる〈紙〉に目をとめ、仕事の合間をぬって包装紙から紙撚を作る作業を始めた。
 紙撚は、細長く切った紙に撚りをかけて紐状にしたもので、古来、紙の束を綴じたり、髪を束ねたりと、日本では日常的に用いられてきた。さらには、願い事をしたためた絵馬を吊るすとき、短冊に書いて七夕様に願いをかけるときなど、遥か彼方に想いを届けようと結ぶ紐でもある。石田は紙撚に、お供え物に込められた〈気持ち〉を重ねた。苦しみを抱えた参拝者は、お供えをして拝むという行為を繰り返していく中で、徐々に日常性を取り戻していく。届かぬ想いを託されたお供え物に重要な意味を見出した石田が、その包装紙を紙撚にという発想に至ったのはごく自然なことのように思われる。
 紙撚は、紙を切ってさえおけば10 数秒という短い単位で作ることができ、作業の場所もとらない。
 そのため、いつ寺の仕事が入ってもすぐに対応ができる。こうした石田の制作スタイルは、時間や場所など、寺における日常生活の営みとうまく共存している。「紙を撚るという作業は、慣れない環境で忙しい毎日を過ごす中、日々のあらゆる自分自身を確認するための行為だったのかもしれない」と石田は回顧する。
 紙撚一本一本には、一瞬一瞬、その時々の作者自身が刻み込まれているといえよう。そして作られた年月、時間が異なる何万もの紙撚たちは、展示空間で幾層にも重ね合わされていき、作品へと昇華していく。紙撚は一本一本が単に作品をかたち作るためにそこにあるわけではなく、それぞれが同等の価値あるものとして存在している。流れるような日々の中で、日記を綴るように撚られた紙それぞれが主役であり、その集積が作品として表出されるのである。
 日々の生活の中で生み出された紙撚は、さまざまな空間に広げられることでひとつの作品となる。石田はこれまで、美術館やギャラリーのほかに、古民家における展示や梵鐘の装飾、舞台美術なども手がけてきた。展示場所の性格に合わせて展示方法や演出を多様に変化させるという作品の特性上、まったく同じ空間が出現することはない。時間をかけてその場と融合するように紙撚が展開され、展覧会が終わるとまたばらばらに戻されて保存箱に収納される。「寝るときは部屋に布団を敷き、起きたら押し入れに片付けられる。そこにちゃぶ台が出てきて、その上に食事が運ばれ、食べ終わったら片付ける。そこを掃除してなにもない空間へ。これが昔ながらの日本の生活。終わったら畳んで片付けるという日本人の生活…私もぜひそういう考え方のものにしておきたい」と石田は語る。彼女の制作は常に日常の中にあり、伝統的な日本の文化に基づく感性や精神性が、作品に内在しているのである。
 石田は、生活の中にある身近な素材と戯れながら、その特性を活かして制作している。素材と向き合い、素材と関わる過程を大切にする姿勢が石田の制作の根本をなしており、彼女の作品が持つ豊かさ、穏やかさ、柔軟さは、その対話の中から生まれている。そして対話は鑑賞者へとつながっていく。作品をどのようにとらえ、作品からどんな問いかけを感じたのかは、鑑賞者の感受性や経験にある程度ゆだねたいと石田は考える。作品の空間にたたずみ、何かを想起したり連想したりしてもらうことで、直接話さなくても作品を通して鑑賞者とコミュニケーションをとりたいというのが彼女の願いでもある。展示空間に身を置き、それぞれの感受性によって自由に想いを馳せることで、思い思いに作品と共振することができる。
 包装紙から生まれた色とりどりの紙撚は、ある時点の作品からすべてが白色になった。素材として白い紙を使うようになるのだが、無数の白い紙撚の集合は、見る者に圧倒的な印象を与えながらも、視覚的イメージのみならず丹精込められた手業を際立たせ、なおかつ鑑賞者それぞれが自由に感じることのできる余地を残してくれる。「紙撚を作り続けるというような、生命維持に関係のない単純な作業を繰り返すことができるのは人間だけ。人間にとって、私にとって、性質のようなものがそこにあり、人間らしさが表れるのではないか。色があると人はどうしてもそれを追ってしまい、単純な作業が見えなくなる」。石田がそんな考えを抱いて制作していた頃、彼女の母が亡くなる。かけがえのない存在を失った悲しみ、悔しさを〈浄化〉してほしいという強い想いも重なり、自然と作品の色は白へと移行する。 展示空間に入ったときに感じる清らかで静謐な雰囲気は、この〈浄化〉という観念から伝わる印象なのかもしれない。
 人々の心を包んだお供え物の包装紙は、人と人、想いと想いを結んできた。そこから生まれた紙撚は、作品として展示されることで再び人々を結び、新たな出会いをも生み出す。豊かに絡み合った紙撚からは、無限の縁によって成り立っているこの世のありようを感じることもできる。紙撚は参拝者の心と作者自身の想いを結び、作品のかたちとなることで作者と鑑賞者を結ぶ。鑑賞者は作品からそれぞれの想いへとつないでいく。そんなところにこそ石田の作品の魅力があるのだろう。

※ 本文中の石田智子氏の言葉は、2019 年10 月から12 月にかけて行ったインタビュー(計3 回、自宅)を基にしています。

Connections provided by koyori

NITTA Ryoko
Curator of Koriyama City Museum of Art

We can see something chiffon in bloom, floating and swaying gently in the darkness… When we step into the dark space and take a close look at it, we realize it is a mass of accumulation of innumerable thin materials. It is a mystic world created with koyori pieces by Ishida Tomoko who is an artist known for the works using paper in a variety of ways.
Ishida, originally from Osaka, got married into a temple in Miharumachi, Fukushima Prefecture in the northeastern region of Japan and since then she devoted herself to vast amounts of temple affairs from day to day in an environment that was totally different from the lively quarter full of shops back in Osaka where she grew up. At the temple, many worshippers visit with a box of confection as an offering, saying “This was the favorite of my late husband,” or “Please take these sweets. My son loved it.” When Ishida received the offerings, she felt those visitors’ ‘feelings’ expressed from the wrapped boxes. Those feelings that Ishida once experienced herself such as unfocused grief, anger and a sense of loss when she lost her beloved one and she felt like such feelings were wrapped together in those boxes. Since she used to make art work from cloth that is another kind of fiber material, Ishida focused on the “paper” that wrapped the boxes and started making koyori pieces using those wrapping paper in the spare moments she could out of busy days.
Koyori is a string made by cutting paper into thin pieces and twisting it. It was traditionally used on a daily basis in Japan, for example, to bind a bunch of paper or people’s hair. Furthermore, it was used as a string to tie or fasten things when people hang ema or a votive picture of a horse with their wishes written on it, or hang tanzaku that is a strip of paper bearing a wish on the day of tanabata, the Star Festival, hoping to send their wishes afar off.
Ishida imbued her koyori pieces with people’s ‘feelings’ put into their offerings. Worshippers will gradually recover their daily life through repeated act of making an offering and praying. It seems that it is natural course of things that Ishida who saw an important meaning in the offerings that convey unrequited feelings of people came to the idea of making koyori with the wrapping papers used for the offerings.
It only takes about 10 seconds or so to roll one piece of paper for koyori, and they don’t take up much space and the work can be interrupted at any time for the temple affairs that may arise. This work style of Ishida, in terms of time and place of work, is compatible well with her living conditions at the temple. “Twisting paper into koyori might had been the act for me to identify many different aspects of myself living busy days in an environment I did not accustomed to,” said Ishida as she recalled back her past.
Each and every piece of koyori may be reflecting the artist herself at the very moment it was made. Tens of thousands of koyori pieces made at different time and day will be put together in many layers in a space of exhibition and sublimated into art work. A single piece of koyori exists there not just to shape a work but also as the individual being of equal value. Each one of the pieces of paper twisted into koyori as the days went by, like keeping a diary, is the leading player and when they are integrated, a workpiece will emerge.
These koyori pieces produced in daily life of the artist will be deployed in many different space and transformed into art work. Ishida has so far worked on creation for art museums and galleries as well as for the exhibit in an old private housing, decoration of a temple bell and stage design. The same art work can never be reproduced because of the characteristic of her style of work in which she widely changes the displaying method and direction to go well with the atmosphere of the place of display. Koyori is structured so as to fit in a specific space which takes time, and after the exhibition, they are deconstructed and stored in a box. “In the traditional Japanese life style, we lay down futon on the floor when we go to sleep and we put it away in a closet in the morning. We set a folding dining table on the same floor, prepare meals on the table and after we finish eating, we fold it and put it aside, then we clean up the room to make an open space. I really desire to live up to this Japanese traditional life style; When I’m done, I fold it and tidy up the place,” says Ishida. Her creative work is always part of her daily life and underlying in the art works she create is the sensitivity and the spirit stemming from the traditional Japanese culture.
Playing with materials she can find around her in daily life, Ishida works to take advantage of the material’s property. She creates art work based on her principle to emphasize on the process of facing and connecting with materials. The richness, calmness and flexibility that we can find in her works stems from the close interaction between the artist and the materials. Such interaction will then be conveyed to the viewers of her work. Ishida thinks it should be left to viewers’ own sensitivity and experience to a certain extent how to think of her work and what question is posed by her work to the viewer. She desires to make communications through her works even without direct conversations with the viewers standing in the space where her work is displayed who may have some recollection or association evoked by the work. Viewers in the space of exhibition will be able to resonate with her work as they like when they cast their imagination freely as driven by their own sensitivity.
Colorful koyori produced from the wrapping papers changed to all white at a certain point in time as only white paper was used as material for the works thereafter. A mass of innumerable pieces of white koyori gives an overwhelming impression to the viewers while it emphasized not only the visual image but also conspicuous traces of hand techniques with strenuous effort. And there is still room for viewers to derive inspiration freely from the work. “Only human being can be continuously engaged in a simple repetitive work that has nothing to do with activities necessary to live. I find some kind of characteristic of human being and of myself in that act, and there is something human in it. We tend to focus on the color if a workpiece is colored and do not pay much attention to a simple work.” When Ishida was working on art thinking that way, her mother passed away. She had then a strong wish that her deep sorrow and bitterness of losing her dear mother would be “purified” and thereafter her work tuned to white for that reason. The atmosphere filled with pureness and tranquility I felt when I entered the exhibition space may be an impression conveyed through this concept of “purification”.
The wrapping papers used to wrap people’s feelings into the offerings have been linking many people and wishes. Pieces of koyori produced from those materials in turn connect more people when they are displayed as art works and provide opportunity of new encounters. The vision of koyori pieces interwinding exuberantly with each other may remind you of the state of this world we live in that consists of infinite relationships. Koyori connects the feelings of viewers with the artist’s wish and then, when transformed into a workpiece, connects the artist with viewers. Individual viewers will in turn link the art work to their own imagination. That is the reason why we find Ishida’s art work attractive.

* The remarks of Tomoko Ishida in the text are excerpts from the interview with her that was conducted at home for three times from October to December 2019.
久常 満江
ブリュッセル在住、エッセイスト・レポーター

 何かを訴えかける不安な眼差し、人の声をただ繰り返すだけのこだま、蜘蛛の巣にからみつかれた大樹、細い金糸が編み込んだか細くも弱々しい半透明の病める肉体、かと思えば中世の追憶をのせた密事(メッセージ)は封じられたままそこにある。これら偶有の現世を照らす一条の光明。そこから無限の彼方まで光の波は拡がる。来世は静かに漂っているかにみえる。
 これがボビン編みレースの伝統を誇るブリュッセルで行われた今回の国際レース・ビエンナーレの作品から受けた印象である。
 水の都、北のヴェネチアと称されるブリュージュでよくみかける眼鏡をかけた黒衣の老婆が熱心にボビンレースを編むあのおみやげの人形。あるいは真白いリネンの繊細きわまりない芸術品のレース編み。今回のコンクールはこうした既成概念を大きく離れ、モダン・アート・ビエンナーレの趣きが強い。
 書類審査を通過して作品の出品が認められた二十五名は、「今日と明日のレース」と題するテーマに基づいてコンセプトを定め、伝統的なテクニックを用いて新しい美の表現を追求する作品が目立った。マチエールにおいても同じである。そこには現代社会の一面が深く影を落としている。
 一九八二年に創立され、ベルギー前国王王妃ファビオラの名を戴くこの国際レース・ビエンナーレは今年九回目を迎え、去る十月二十六日夕、王妃並びにマチルダ皇太子妃のご臨席のもとに、ブリュッセルの中心グランプラスに面した市庁舎の華麗なゴシックの間において行われた。
 ボビンレース本場のベルギーはもとよりフランス、ドイツ、オランダ、イタリア、チェコ、ポーランド等の参加国出品作品の中から、第一位ファビオラ王妃大賞(グランプリ)には日本から出品した石田智子さん(四十一歳、大阪市出身、福島県在住)の「撚りあひて」と題する作品に贈られた。作品の独創性が評価され、同委員会審査員の満場一致によるものであった。
 石田さんは京都の精華大学芸術学部で染色を専攻し、福島県三春町の禅寺福聚寺の橋本宗久和尚のもとに嫁ぐ。寺庭としての任務の傍ら主に贈答品の包装紙を用いて寸暇を惜しんで紙縒を作り、これを基に数々の作品を創作発表してきた。彼女の作品はすでに内外のコンクールに入賞し、注目を浴びている若手芸術家である。
「古くから日本にある紙縒にはいろいろな用途があり、私たち日本人には馴染み深いものです。紙は物を包みまた人の心をも包みます。紙を撚りあわせるという行為は物をお贈りくださった方と私とを結びつけ、このことはまた再び私たちが出逢う事にもなります。それは喜びです」と着物姿で会場に現れた石田さんは素材について説明した。
 「撚りあひて」と題する彼女の作品は、薄墨色の方形の縁に囲まれた鏡の床の上に、数個の紙縒を糊で固定したものを数限りなく組み合わせかつ積み上げたもので、あたかも空間に彫刻をほどこしたかのごとく見える。まさにマジック・レースとも称されるべきこの創作は、天地の間にあって不思議な光を発する生命ある存在のようだ。
 「ガラスの上が現在を、また上の光が照らす背後の壁の影が彼岸を表します。可視の世界の向こうに実在を感じ取っていただければ幸いです」と彼女は結んだ。
 このように見れば、ガラスの下の半透明な空間は前世ということになろう。過去はおぼろな薄明の中にその姿を没している。無明の闇を貫き天空から降り注ぐ漠とした光芒は現世を照射する。来世とはこの静謙な空間。清澄純白な幻想の世界は詩的である。
 受賞・入選作品は市内のレース博物館に十二月十四日まで展示される。過去の日本人受賞者は京都出身の奈良平宣子さんで、第六、第七回ビエンナーレにおいて連続金ボビン賞を受賞。第一位ファビオラ大賞は今回の石田智子さんが初めての快挙である。

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