“You’ve got to come hear this,” I said, phoning Magellan and asking him to meet me at the Power Plant to hear Forty Part Motet as soon as his meeting was over. I was happy to spend an extra hour listening to the art (yes, listening) until he arrived. It was in Toronto in 2004, the […]
At this time in autumn twenty-five moons ago, we were bashing around on the “living husband-and-wife bridges” in Japan’s most secluded wilderness in a “wild monkey cart.” Needs explaining doesn’t it?
Quietly, our stockinged feet touch the cool, grey floor. Like a water droplet at the moment of landing, this concrete shell elongates. Pillarless. Seamless. Edgeless. There is no boundary between floor and ceiling. An inclusive space. For a single, solitary artwork. The silence is profound. There are no cameras. Talking is prohibited; even children’s voices […]
“Eek-y-guy” What? “Eek-y-guy” is how you pronounce the Japanese word ikigai, which means having a sense of purpose. For the Japanese jubilado Tsukimi Ayano, making scarecrows is her ikigai.
“That’s good because I didn’t want to sleep in a yurt on the beach,” Ward said when I told him we’d booked rooms for he and Lynn and Magellan and I at Benesse House in Japan. Like Claudia and Jamie in the children’s book The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, we were going […]