The painting: A Man-Made Skin

絵画―――その人工の肌、

（日本語は下に続きます）

To what extent am I me (or you, you)?

While pondering this question, casually glance at your hands, arms, legs.

Unquestionably, there is something contour-like existing there.

Can it be true that the inner side of this thing you see is “me” but that which is outside is not?

Surely not.

Focus your eyes and look carefully once more.

Can you not see there the fragments of peeling skin, the countless hairs, the sunken pores, the wrinkles, and so on?

And what about the plucked out hairs and bits of peeled skin, et cetera, which are randomly scattered about nearby?

And that’s not all. There’s also the skin creams and cologne you put on this morning, the band-aid covering a cut, the makeup, the nail polish, and so on, which rapidly repeat over and over the task of accumulation and extinguishments that takes place on the dividing line of this multi-stratified contour-like surface that you are now perusing.

And it is not only in the diversity of textures that this is so.

Transparent things, semi-transparent things, reflective things, damp things, dry things, things that melt and disappear, things that permeate, things that moisten … Here the dividing line between which are natural things and those that are man-made cannot help but be fuzzy.

God-sent natural things and scientifically synthesized layers of quasi skin; artificially colored substances; plastic; silicon … in reality these possess a close affinity to one another. So much so, indeed, that you would be forgiven for thinking that in the beginning God-given nature actually might not have existed.

Put simply, the contour-like thing you saw was, in reality, just a boundary between the seeable and non-seeable. That is to say, that which is clearly visible is not a “dividing line.” Nor, however, is it a “boundary face.” This is because a boundary that breathes and interchanges between that which is inside and that which is outside cannot be simply a linear entity.

“Boundary layers” – Such an unfamiliar phrase falls on deaf ears.

The various things that are “seen” yet “un-seeable,” that “cover” and are “covered,” that are “hidden” and are “revealed” slowly penetrate the boundary layer, facilitating the stratification process. And yet, there is no depth here because, when all’s said, we are only able to see this “layer” from straight on – from the front side.

I say “side,” but really we should say “place” – when we scan over the surface skin, how will the conflict between formless feelings and tangible substances, shown in the space between the unique two-dimentionality of a painting and its flatness, be perceived?

These are the issues faithfully and patiently explored in Shoko Imano’s works. It is probably better to reword this and say that rather than investigating the flatness inherent in a painting, Imano tenaciously explores its surface skin. In other words, he works to give a “skin” to a painting.

Needless to say this “skin” does not refer to such things as the paint on the canvas itself, or a temperament, for that matter. “Index” would be a more suitable appellation – a kind of place, or non-place, that through the painting medium is manifested as a surface skin representing opposing entities, such as man versus society, nature versus the manufactured, interior versus exterior – opposing entities that interpenetrate one another until they merge and finally switch sides.

Throughout his work, Imano has unswervingly focused on this issue and, what is more, he has done so through the timely/timeless and highly materialistic medium of painting. It could be said that while the difficulties and possibilities imposed by this artist on himself are contradictory they nonetheless exist.

Take, for example, his most outstanding work “Package.”

Here, the painting reveals a damp texture wrapped in a pale, translucent rubber, which represents the man-made “skin” that is manufactured to adhere and continually intercept relations between two people. Put in a slightly more humanistic fashion, it represents a “dividing line” that both brings humans deeply together while at the same time keeping them apart; and while serving as a medium for both a wholly natural human act and artificial deed, that which is “inside” and that which is “outside” mutually interchange making it impossible for the observer to distinguish which, in reality, is on the surface and which is on the underside. The reverse side of this man-made skin – subtly curved and susceptible to reflections – and the drama held within the peculiarly tangible surface skin are superbly developed on the canvas via a delicate choice of hues, skillfully applied brushwork, and, moreover, the admirable framing of the work.

As a consequence of the interchangeability between the inside and outside that is made possible in Imano’s work, his idea of the surface-like nature of “skin” is easily transferred to a variety of materials and situations.

“Message,” for example, is a work that depicts a trace of lipstick left on an envelope. Through the surface-like nature of this impression, the viewer’s attention is divided between the relationship between the sender and the receiver, or in other words, that which is contained on the “inside” of the envelope and the “outside” that is a space for social intercourse. As we the viewer are on the outside, before we know it we find ourselves unwittingly gravitating toward relativizing the experience of looking at the picture itself. While seeing a picture from the inside and seeing it from the outside remain completely independent things, they are, at the same time, in coexistance.

It is probably for this reason that somehow Imano’s work is hollow.

This hollowness is on the whole quite remote from the “Incarnation” ceremonies traditionally carried in Western art. If we were to compare Imano’s work with that of Francis Bacon, who throughout his life’s work boldly pursued the “flesh” of paintings itself, the void found in Imano’s work is a materialistic one that carefully excludes anything that could become “flesh,” and instead spontaneously depicts the skin, and only the skin, of a painting.

Noi Sawaragi: Art critic

わたし（あなた）は，いったいどこまでで，わたし（あなた）なのか．

そう思いながら，ふと手を，腕を，足を見てみる．

そこには，たしかに輪郭らしきものが存在している．

はたして，この輪郭に沿って内側がわたしで，その外側が非・わたしなのだろうか．

そんなことは，ない．

目を凝らして，もういちど，よく見てみる．

するとそこには，ささくれ立った皮膚の表皮や，無数の体毛，陥没した毛穴，皺などが存在することがわかるだろう．

そしてその周囲には，さっき抜けたばかりの髪の毛や，剥げ落ちた皮膚の一部などが漠然と広がっている．

それだけではない．

朝，肌に塗ったクリームやコロン，傷を覆う絆創膏，女性ならば化粧用品やマニュキュアなどが，この輪郭らしきものの境界線上で幾重にも層をなし，消滅と堆積の運動をめまぐるしく繰り返している．

質感の多様性ばかりではない．

透明なもの，半透明なもの，反射するもの，湿潤なもの，ドライなもの，溶けてなくなるもの，浸透するもの，定着するもの，保湿するもの…… そこでは，人工のものと自然のものとの境界も，あいまいとならざるをえない．

神から与えられた天賦の自然と，化学的に合成された擬似的な皮膚の層，着色された物質，プラスチック，シリコン…… 実のところ，それらは，とても相性がよい．まるで，最初から所与の自然など存在していなかったかのように．

つまり「輪郭」めいて見えたものは，実際には，見えることと見えないこととの「境界」でしかなかったのだ．はっきりしているのは，それが「境界線」ではないということだ．だが「境界面」でもない．呼吸し内外を交換する境界は，単に一様な面ではないからだ．

「境界層」――聞き慣れぬ，そんな響きが耳をよぎる．

そこでは，様々な「見え」と「見えなさ」，「被い」と「被われ」，「隠れ」と「顕われ」が，ゆっくりと浸透しながら幾重にも層をなしている．しかし，それでいて，そこに「厚み」はない．われわれは，けっきょく，この「層」を正面から見ることしかできないからだ．

面というよりは場というべき，表皮をめぐる，こうした形なき感覚と形ある物質のせめぎあいを，絵画が持つ特性である「平面性」と「正面性」のはざまで，いかにとらえるか――今野尚行の作品で，ていねいに時間を掛けてゆっくりと，しかし着実に探られているのは，たぶん，そういうことだろう．ここでそれを，一枚の絵画をその平面性においてではなく，あくまで表皮性において探求すること，といいかえておいてもよい．いわば，絵画に「肌」を与える行為だ．

もちろん，ここでの「肌」とは，「絵肌」や「肌合い」といったような意味ではない．

そうではなく，人間と社会，自然と人工，内と外といった対立項が，そこを媒介に相対化され，たがいに浸透し合い，ついには反転してしまうような，そのような意味での「非・場所」を絵画の表皮において示すための，それ自体がインデックスのような呼称であるというべきだろう．

今野は，これまでの発表でも一貫してこうした問題を，しかも絵画という，きわめて非・時間的で物質性の高い表現を通じて行って来た．そこに，この作家が自分に課したことのむずかしさも可能性も，矛盾したままあるといえる．今回の個展は，その成果の現時点での集大成といえるだろう．

たとえば，なかでも最大の作品《パッケージ》を見てみよう．

淡い透明な合成樹脂に包まれて湿潤な質感を示しているのは，人と人とを遮断しつつ密着させるための人工の皮膚である．もう少し人間的な言い方をすれば，それは人を深く出会わせると同時に切り離すための境界であり，自然な営為と人為的な行為との媒介をなすと同時に，内側と外側を交換し合いながら，見るものにとっての「裏」と「表」が持つ意味を事実上，決定不可能にする．この人工の肌が持つ，ゆるやかでうつろいやすい反面，奇妙な確実さを持った表皮のドラマを，今野の絵は，むずかしい色彩の選択や絵具の定着，さらにはトリミングの妙によって見事に画面に現象させている．

こうした「肌」の表皮性は，その内外の反転可能性ゆえに，今野の作品において，様々な物質やシチュエーションへと容易に転移していく．

封書に残された口紅の跡を描いた《メッセージカード》は，この痕跡の表皮性を媒介にして，絵を見る際の重心を，口紅を寄せられたものと，それを寄せたものとの関係，いいかえれば，封書の「内」なる内面と，封書の外の社交空間とに分裂させながら，いつのまにか，この絵を見る体験そのものを相対化してしまう．そこでは，絵を「内から見る」ことと，「外から見る」ことが，まったく没交渉のまま，同時に共存しているのである．

それゆえだろうか，今野の絵画はどこか，うつろだ．

このうつろさは，西欧において絵画が伝統的に担わされて来た「受肉」の儀式性とは，およそかけ離れている．

ここであえて，生涯にわたり絵画における「肉そのもの」を追求したフランシス・ベイコンに比していえば，今野の絵のうつろさは，周到に「肉なるもの」を排除したところにおのずと現れる，「絵画の肌」そのものがもつ「物質的なうつろさ」なのだ．

椹木野衣［さわらぎ・のい｜美術評論］