The world of Izumi Kato
Izumi Kato hails from Shimane, Japan. South west of the island, it’s a spiritual prefecture, holding onto the Shinto, Buddhist and Animist beliefs of a past time. This spirituality shaped Kato’s childhood, and is now a recognisable feature of his works; conjuring ethereal creatures that inhabit a space between reality and the spirit worlds.
His paintings, sculptures, and drawings feature these interesting embryonic aliens that sit within a liminal background of colour, floating in a realm neither here nor there. These empty spaces give as much contextual information as any other part of his work. This is because Kato doesn’t like to add context, the images and sculptures speak for themselves; he doesn’t want to direct the viewer in any way.
Moreover, he doesn’t create art to ‘explain anything’, stating, “What the viewer thinks of the piece is more important than what I think”, in a 2021 interview. He wants his audience to purely interact with the visual, refraining from any outside distractions.
Yet, he clearly draws inspiration from all parts of his life. For example, the stitching in some works implies his avid fishing. Or his use of found materials, like the rocks which he selects and uses “as [he] finds them” rather than sculpting them after the fact. He then paints life onto these rocks, indicating the aforementioned Animism of his home region. A belief of innate spiritual essence within all things, objects included.
“I work with my intuition when it comes to choosing materials. It is deep and fascinating to work with a particular material without really knowing why I was drawn to it.”
2018, The Artling
Kato’s work is very instinctual, and thus, he wants his audience to interact with the art in an almost instinctual fashion too. This instinct is also found in his methodology, as well as medium. For example, rather than using a brush, Kato chooses to use his hands when painting. Initially an act of rebellion during his time at Musashino Art University of Tokyo, he found that this methodology gave him greater control in gradation and blending.
The colours are what instantly stand out in his paintings, becoming a more prominent feature as he’s developed his craft. There is some reference to colour theory (of which I know little), but, again the colours seem to come from an intuitive source, as they, at times, feel contradictory or clashing.
Stylistically, his paintings appear flat on the surface of the canvas; possibly continuing a significant tradition within Japanese art more widely. A feature that intrigued the world since the island reopened its borders in 1845. Consequently, Kato’s work, although otherworldly, seems inescapably grounded in his lived experience.
He first gained international acclaim in 2005, from his inclusion in Takashi Murakami’s curated exhibition Little Boy: The Arts of Japan’s Exploding Subculture at New York Japan Society. Kato’s mutant spirits being a necessary inclusion in Murakami's inquiry of Modern Japan’s post-war, post-nuclear experience.
Since then, Kato has amassed a long list of solo and group exhibitions, reaching out of East Asia into European and American galleries with welcome receptions; of which the most recent solo exhibition was his first London show.
This is how I managed to see Kato’s new works at the Stephen Friedman Gallery. Being my first exposure to him, I wasn’t quite sure what to think. The strange spirits were eerie yet comforting at the same time.
Of the paintings there was a mixture of small and large, all split into two separate canvases, which has become a distinctive part of Kato’s work since around 2017.
The large wooden sculptures looked roughly hacked away at, giving the creatures a jagged skin, whilst covered in plastic models and fishing lures. They pleasantly contrasted the smoothness of his paintings.
This time the large stitched hanging figures seen in previous shows weren’t included, presumably due to the lower ceilings in the space itself. Nonetheless, there was already plenty of variation on display to show Kato’s versatility and explorative willingness to experiment.
Izumi Kato’s art is intriguingly captivating with characters that all seem to deserve their own comic or mini-series. I want to know their stories. Yet, their mystery is what continues to draw me in, keenly awaiting his next developments.
By Henry Kidney