UNVEILING A TAPESTRY OF EMOTION: A Captivating Encounter with Chiharu Shiota

In the mesmerising world of Chiharu Shiota, installations are poetry in motion. With deft hands and a curious mind, she creates artworks that draw together memory, human connection, and the fragile beauty of life. In this exclusive interview, we discuss her artistic philosophy, the enduring power of visual storytelling, and how concepts of space, memory, and time guide her work. Join us as we attempt to unravel the threads of inspiration that guide this extraordinary artist.

hube: The emotional rhythm of your work is often likened to that found in poetry. Is such an analogy correct? Do you find poetry in your work?

Chiharu Shiota: I like this comparison, because in poetrythere is also a connection between eachword. It is a very nice feeling when I find beautiful poetry that I can connect to my artwork.

h: You rarely comment on your artworks, an act that protects the freedom of creation and the freedom of interpretation. How important is such freedom to you?

CS: First, I have an image in my head of my work. The installation explains more than my words can. Only after [the installation is complete] am I able to explain it. It always depends on how the viewer and artwork change; I never know when a work is finished.

h: Performance art is ephemeral, and so too are your site-specific installations. Could you explain the role of impermanence in your practice?

CS: I am not making performance art that much anymore, but my installations can also be seen as performance. For me, the moment is more important than keeping an artwork forever. Time cannot keep an artwork alive, but memory can. Even when the installations are deconstructed, they remain forever in the mind of the viewer.

h: The scale of your work relates specifically to the human body. You, quite literally, allow the audience to get inside your work. Could you tell us more about this?

CS: You can immediately transfer emotions within these large-scale installations. The visitors have feelings as soon as they enter the room. My installations surround people, so they can feel what the meaning is, or what feeling it evokes in them. They might ask “what is life and death?” or they might project their own story onto the installation. It’s not like a painting or sculpture, which explains meaning more slowly. I like this immediate effect very much; I really like working with space, space explains much more than an object in a space is able to.

h: Our memory preserves the past in the form of fragments. When reflecting on the past, we put these fragments together like a puzzle, unconsciously reinventing them. Why is the concept of memory so important to you?

CS: I can tell who I am because I have a memory. If I have no memory, I cannot tell my story. Memory consists of a person, and I feel like memory exists very strongly in people— but you cannot touch it. When I collect these mundane objects—such as shoes, suitcases, keys, passports, photo albums—at the flea market, it is as if the memory of these people remains in them.