Tezukayama Gallery is pleased to announce Kohei Yamashita’s solo exhibition “S L A B” starting from 16th November.

Kohei Yamashita was born in 1983 in Ibaraki Prefecture, he is an artist based primarily in Kyoto. Since his time at Kyoto City University of Arts, majoring in Concepts and Media Planning in the master course, he has explored themes such as the sence of distance through “perspective” and “current position” in his work. He has created a diverse range of work across painting, sculpture, photography, and installation, that are not limited by medium. One consistent feature in his work is his incorporation of bodily sensations, such as memories and experiences gained through his mountaineering, symbolically. 

This exhibition, his first in about seven years, will primarily feature new works that Yamashita has created around the theme of “ugliness,” a subject that has drawn his interest over the past few years. The pursuit of “beauty” has long been regarded as an ideal in the history of art, but is “ugliness” simply defined as the opposite of beauty? While Yamashita has previously confronted the immeasurable scale of natural beauty found in mountains and transformed that into his works, the theme of “ugliness” may seem sudden. However, thinking of “ugliness” means addressing the inner emotions of prejudice and fears that we carry, or focusing on those to be excluded society. It can be interpreted as an attempt to explore “something” beyond conventional notions of beauty and ugliness through a paradoxical lens.

[Artist’s Statement]

I am angry. Not at anything in particular—just vaguely angry. Is it at the situation I find myself in? Or perhaps at the world, politics, or even my neighbours? I don’t know. I rage in solitude inside my cramped studio, barely able to move, surrounded by my work. Yet, this inexpressible anger has been driving me for the past few years, even before the pandemic.

In the film “Interstellar”, Professor Brand quotes Dylan Thomas’ “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”: “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” But I added an extra word “Rage, rage, rage,” (which ultimately means I’ve misremembered it)repeating it like a spell in my daily life.

In 2024, the back-and-forth beef between Kendrick Lamar and Drake captivated audiences, especially in the U.S. I watched from afar as rappers’ diss tracks, with a peculiar mix of camaraderie and division, produced masterpieces born from a tangled mass of negative emotions like resentment and anger.

Lately, I’ve been pondering, “What is ugliness?” Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I can no longer distinguish between what is beautiful and what is ugly—vomit, nausea, rusty water, weeds, scrap metal.

Faintly, I recall a black, bulky diesel vehicle from my past. It was probably a Mazda Bongo Wagon that I rode in when I lived at hometown. That heavy, iron vehicle, with likely some warm-coloured stripes on it, slowly and grandly sways in my mind.

I’m also baffled by how the fact that Michio Fukuoka engraved “Nothing to Do” has sunk deep into my core, refusing to fade, gradually transforming into “Nothing can be created.” 

I write this text fully aware of its disjointedness. Yet, I don’t expect the dots to connect. I have no expectations of opportunism. Perhaps all I can do now is line up what already exists, those things that have unknowingly accumulated like scum, only now emerging to the surface.

The title of the exhibition, “SLAB,” refers to a thick plate, a stone tablet, a mortuary table, and a case of 24 canned beers. While nearly discarded unnoticed, hidden or deceived, I am currently creating flat slabs that resemble the remnants I cling to.

Kohei Yamashita, September 2024