Art space
Osaka

Public art in the big city
Outside a Starbucks on Nakanoshima in Osaka, I stumbled upon
an art installation that felt rather out of place. For a start, being
installed in the foyer of a Japanese office building, it was in English
and Jenny Holzer’s artwork rarely comes in any other language.
Secondly, this work Serpentine (2002) was, as are most of her
electronic LED signs, political and seemed especially combative
in such a corporate environment. As I sat over my cup of coffee,
I watched and read the scrolling blue text from beginning to end,
occasionally laughing to myself and reflecting on the power of
her statements in its odd home. In this moment, being the only
foreigner in the vicinity, this installation felt like it was here just
for me and it only cost me a coffee, and then I found myself
wondering how many more artworks are publicly dotted around
Osaka.
One of the things about public art is that it is intended to be
site-specific and viewed by anyone and everyone. It can also
occasionally be discreet. Walk along the south side of Nagahoridori
from Yotsubashisuji towards Midosuji and you might only
see wide boulevards and a few designer shops. Look up and you
will see Osaka Vicki (1997-1998) by Roy Lichtenstein. For the
uninitiated, Lichtenstein is most famous for his large scale rendi-
tions of comic book strips made during the Pop Art era of the
sixties and here, painted on the side of an air conditioning cool-
ing tower of Crysta Nagahori is a version of an older work called
Vicki (1964) modified especially for Osaka. Overlooking the street,
the 37x15 metre image consists of a woman’s face as an anonymous
man says “Vicki! I—I thought I heard your voice!” As with
Jenny Holzer’s piece, one has to wonder what this has to do with
its surroundings. When something is placed in a white gallery,
that white space is usually considered to be neutral so that the
painting or whatever it may be can be seen as intended. There
are very few white public spaces in Osaka so in view of such a
bizarre choice, can we begin to say that the grey public space is
the new white one, and that someone somewhere is treating the
streets like their own museum?
If there is someone dotting these artworks around the city as
if curating a museum, then they had a field day with Midosuji.
I find it best to think of this part of the city as the ‘Bronze Room’
and to view of all of the works in this room might take an hour or
so, unless you have a bike (something you unfortunately can’t have
in a ‘confined’ museum) but be prepared to dodge all manner of
things such as cyclists, shoppers and small dogs.
The entrance to the ‘room’ is marked by a kinetic sculpture titled
Astral Traveller by local and world-renowned artist Susumu
Shingu. Situated at the corner of Nagahoridori and Midosuji in
front of the Luis Vutton store, this steel structure, like many of
his works scattered around Japan, balances finely against the
wind on its base and draws attention to the state of motion that
everyone in this area seems to be in. In fact, and this is just a
personal observation, I never seem to see it pointing in any other
direction than towards Shinsaibashi. Like the obligatory museum
shop, its almost as if it is suggesting one should go get some
‘souvenirs’ when you are done. If you do have an intention to
come back and do some shopping, I would suggest starting by
going up the west side of Midosuji (sheltered from the sun) and
coming down the other. Positioned on either side of the street as
far as Yodoyobashi station are 26 bronze sculptures by a variety
of Japanese and international artists. Here you will find works by
Henry Moore, Churyo Sato, Emilio Greco, Shinya Nakamura and
August Rodin to name but a few. Taking up the theme of ‘In
Praise of Mankind’, all of these pieces are works inspired by the
figure and according to some of the web guides are intended to
encourage people as they are walking by, to stop and engage
with the feeling of history. Some of them are beautiful examples
of the sculptors’ skills but the sense that I got was not one of
history, but rather one of money. After all, this ‘stretch’ of
Midosuji between Shinsaibashi and Yodoyobashi is often
referred to as the business district and the fact that a large
majority of the pieces were donated by businesses and corporations
left me with the feeling that I was walking around the
palace gardens and that I was supposed to be impressed. That
aside though, it was refreshing to see classical works in Japan
without having to buy a ticket for the privilege. If we were to
pay a ticket price for this museum and have a walk round, are
we getting good value for our money? If we move north from
the ‘Bronze Room’ we might enter the room for ‘Up and Coming
Artists’ (Nishi-Tenma). Move east of that and we might enter the
room for ‘Historical Arts’ (Osaka castle park). Alternatively,
head south of the ‘Bronze Room’ and we reach the ‘Pop Art
Room’ (Amemura), bear east of that through the ‘Digital Arts
Room’ (Den Den Town) and you might eventually find the
‘Korean Arts Room’ (Imazato) somewhere in the corner of the
‘museum building’. This ‘museum’ would have a fair variety of
rooms, it would seem. Perhaps these ‘rooms’ are merely wide
generalizations, as many would argue that Osaka is simply just
a cosmopolitan city. The various districts as in any multi-faceted
modern city coexist with each other like different parts of the
body but something different takes place here and the various
works of public art dotted around the city suggest a method
more akin to curation. Jenny Holzer’s installation can be found
at the far reaches of the financial district. Roy Lichtenstein’s wall
painting marks the northern access to Amemura, a centre of
popular culture. And the ‘Bronze Room’ typically marks the
classical feel of Midosuji.

The 19th Century Scholar Tenshin Okakura once commented
that: “Japan is a museum of Asiatic civilisation”, arguing that
“Japan’s ‘insular isolation’ made her ‘the real repository of the
trust of Asiatic thought and culture.’” He then went further as
to consider “Japan itself to be an ‘art museum’”. Although a very
nationalist statement at the time, if you were to choose any loca-
tion in the world to place one sample of everything and seal the
door, then Japan, with its natural sea walls and experience might
well be the Noah’s Ark of culture and her cities, the perfect
museums of art. Okakura was referring to an inner ability to
collect and in Osaka there seems to be someone who really likes
collecting, but who? Whoever it was also saw it fit to take Susumu
Shingu’s Astral Traveller ‘off display’ not long after writing this.
Maybe they have moved it to another part of the museum?
Text & photos: Gary McLeod
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