A woman is alone in the middle of the city. She appears representing all
of us.
She visits places where people traffic – busy intersections, the entrances
of
buildings and subway stations. There is an endless pulse that runs through the
city; the sound of new posts being struck or the hammering of steel frames.
From these, a new fresh sound is made. This constant rhythm reverberates
between skyscrapers.
This place has existed for hundreds of years, and the canal that I gaze
into acts
like a backbone to the city, a moment of quiet existence.
This is one of the key places that make Japan move. With hundreds if not
thousands of people passing, there is nothing that is still. Thinking in
terms of
practicality, one can be moved to comfort. And, amongst the flow of people,
should one person stop moving, they are regarded as something foreign.
I began to think that I was bringing a different kind of rhythm into this
space,
letting this foreign entity slip into the surroundings.
While we normally do not stand out as individuals, at dusk, when the light
is
changing, I let this woman appear. Depending on the flow, we can see time
drifting, and we feel the workings of nature surround us in this brief
moment of
the day.
We can see this woman who hangs around the orderly row of buildings existing
outside of the location's function. The passer-bys show no interest nor hostility
towards her. It is just a brief moment that gives birth to her existence.
By focusing
on just one person, the drama unfolds in this orderly and composed environment.