Untitled 1999

Atsuko Tanaka made this untitled work with crayon on paper. It’s a field of colorful circles, like a map of the world seen through a child’s eyes. You can almost feel Tanaka’s hand moving across the paper, building up layers of waxy pigment, each circle a small universe of color and texture. I can imagine her, perched over the paper, maybe on the floor, utterly absorbed in the act of creation. There’s something so direct and unpretentious about it, like a jazz riff, a playful experiment in color and form. Think of her other work, the electric dress, for example, then imagine the energy and vitality of circuits and the way she brings those to the humble crayon. It’s like she’s channeling some primal force, plugging into something bigger than herself, a current that runs through all of us. Painters, we’re all in conversation with each other, across time and space, riffing on the same themes, the same questions. We take what comes before and make something new, something personal, something that speaks to the here and now.