Counterparts 2003

Editor: Right now, we're looking at "Counterparts," a sculpture from 2003 by Kishio Suga, crafted from wood. The first word that springs to mind is playful. It's as if a child has re-imagined a table. The supports have been turned into these gorgeous, almost cartoon-like squiggles. How do you read it? Curator: Playful, yes, absolutely! I feel a lightness, a rebellion against the mundane. It reminds me of standing stones. A Stonehenge gone delightfully wrong, maybe? But more profoundly, Suga's work delves into the essence of 'mono-ha,' emphasizing the relationships between natural and man-made materials. The rough, untreated wood clashes deliciously with those intensely black, almost dancing supports. Does that contrast resonate with you? Editor: It does, that push and pull. I’m used to sculpture that's smoothed, refined... this feels deliberately raw. Curator: Precisely! Suga allows the wood to speak, almost untouched. Think about the negative space too, the air vibrating between the elements. It isn't just about the solid objects; it's the *relationships* they conjure. I'd ask myself, "What exactly *are* counterparts, and where can you observe these within Suga's construction"? Editor: Hmm… Is it about how the natural form of wood opposes the artificial shaping, but also, together they become something new? Curator: Yes, it is! It's like he is asking us to really *see* how things affect each other, and our experience of reality. Editor: So it's less about what it *is*, and more about how the pieces communicate? I’ll need to sit with that. Thanks, that's a mind-bender! Curator: Art should be. And sometimes, the simplest forms reveal the most complex ideas, right?