Chiharu Shiota

Arriving in Berlin in 1999, Shiota witnessed a Berlin with lingering Cold War ideological and cultural relics at the turn of the millennium.[11] With the political tension gradually weakening, Berlin had transformed itself into a major economic and commercial center. Although equally fascinated by the forward-moving scenes and the renewal of the urban landscape, Shiota turned to look at the historic, abandoned part of the city. Over several years, the artist collected hundreds of old windows from construction sites in former East Berlin out of her curiosity of how residents from the two sides viewed each other’s way of life. House of Windows (2005), shown at Shiota’s solo exhibition Raum at Haus am Lützowplatz in Berlin and later at the 3rd Fukuoka Asian Art Triennale at the Fukuoka Asian Art Museum in Japan, presents a delicate assemblage of approximately two hundred disposed windows in the shape of a house.[12] Equating windows as skin that divides the flesh and the outer world, Shiota explores the physical boundaries that stood in the fast-changing urban realm and draws a parallel between that and the body and therefore, interpersonal boundaries. Personally, as still a new transplant to Berlin, Shiota moved frequently from one place to another and dislocation has become an inherent part of her life.[13] Thus, through the creation of works such as House of Windows, Shiota probes into the in-betweenness as she was feeling culturally and artistically distant to both her home country and current place of residence. Standing as an extremely fragile dwelling, House of Windows evokes the liminal boundaries between the personal and the historical through visual narratives embedded in used objects.[14][15]

Since the 2000s, Shiota continues to produce cobweb-like installations at institutions worldwide, which became her signature set of works. These installations vary significantly from one to another, fitting the scale of the gallery rooms and incorporating found objects of various kinds. In creating the work at each exhibiting venue, Shiota often engages with the symbolism and stories contained in used objects that she was able to collect. The objects range from beds (Breathing from Earth (2000), During Sleep (2000/2005), One Place (2001), Traces of Memory (2013), Sleeping is like death (2016)), to dresses (After the Dream (2011), Labyrinth of Memory (2012)), to shoes (DNA (2004), Over the Continents (2008), Traces of Life (2008)), to keys (The Key in the Hand (2015)) and chairs Infinity Lines (2017).[16][17] Dresses indicate a second skin, a divide between the self and the world.[18] The curved contours of keys resemble those of the human body.[19] The bodily contact that all of these above objects carries constitutes numerous lived experiences that intrigues the artist. In Shiota’s constructions, the red or black strings stretches from, reaches, surrounds, connects, encloses, and obscures the collected objects in varying ways. At each installation, Shiota and her assistants would spend hours straight in completing the work. The artist views the crisscrossing threads as human relationships that would get tangled, cut, loosened or charged with tension, and these experiences are constantly present in the creation processes of the artist, which adds a layer of performative nature to Shiota’s work that is often unseen to the audience.[20][21]

In the recent decade, Shiota has created large-scale installations that evoke the lived experiences of women. In Dialogue with Absence (2010), an oversized white wedding dress is hung high up on the wall. On the ground lays several peristaltic pumps, from where red liquid depart and reach the dress via numerous plastic tubes attached onto the dress. This part-medical, part-ghostly scene poses questions about womanhood. The dress seems to embody an ideal version of a married woman, who is drained by societal burdens. The injection of the blood could also suggest that societal expectations are fed to her continuously. A disturbing, nightmare-like composition, Dialogue may also be autobiographical, pointing to the artist’s own battling with cancer.[22]

In an attempt to use neglected sites in Pristina as art exhibition spaces for Manifesta 14, Shiota hung hundreds of red yarn threads from the Great Hammam’s ceiling. The venue counted over 150,000 visitors.[23][24]