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AUTUMN’S SEPTEMBER SPRING CHALLENGE How can autumn and spring ever meet? CONCEPT The seasons are around six months apart between Japan and Australia. For instance, when it is Spring (Haru) in Japan, it is Autumn (Aki) in Australia and vice versa. CONTEXT Acrylic on wood panel. 140cm x 120cm. This is an artwork inspired by a poem I’ve written. It is an abstract expression of Autumn’s ‘Dilemma’, whereby Autumn is personified as ‘Aki’ in Japanese. The Japanese name for Autumn or Aki, naturally becomes the subject matter to exemplify these sensibilities of procrastination, regret, loss and hope – of drifting in life. I am interested in capturing the mystical experience of this dilemma within Aki during her arrival and departure. To capture this inner struggle, it is essential to create spots of powdery white, sepia tone, and shades of red to create a disparity with the white background. An overwhelming feel of Autumn’s quandary is to be captured in a sorrowful, yet not overtly so, etiquette. This mood is achieved through a lingering red-ness of Autumn’s colors and textures, in acrylic. This intensifies the built-up and mixture of emotions within Aki and eventually erupts like a firework in Autumn. The transitional hues of red signify and portray this rioting confusion of ‘being-there’*and ‘not-being there’*. *The concept of ‘being’ is a central theme in existential philosophy. ADDITIONAL Poem Synopsis: The seasons are around six months apart between Japan and Australia. For instance, when it is Spring (Haru) in Japan, it is Autumn (Aki) in Australia and vice versa. This is a poem about the solitude of a secret (himitsu) cherry (Sakura) tree found in Araluen (singing waters) Botanic Park in Western Australia, which blossoms during every September instead of Japan February Spring. POEM Autumn's September Spring “Aki is wavering, En route on arrival departure skies. Spring is September down south; Araluen’s anomaly – a miniature Japanese February.
Lonesome Sakura soothes in another foreign grove, Cherry blossoms’ lustre gone – perhaps moonless light. Yearning home, heart-strummed strings, Solitary September Spring.
Purple meadow, daffodils green, himitsu tree, An Occasional Pink, a familiar scent. Coral-paved walks gently sing Unforgotten waters ink.” |
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