“Spill” by Mika Aono at The Barn Light East

05/24/2017

ECA Events, Exhibition, Opening Reception

On Saturday, June 3rd, 2017, ECA will present “Spill” – New work by M ika Aono, at The Barn Light East. This will be our final show until the fall. We are extremely grateful to Thomas, Mark, and Megan from the Barn Light East, for all their support and help this year. Their staff is the best in town and Barn Light owners Thomas Pettus-Czar and Mark Sheppard, put a lot of support behind cultural events in Eugene.

We’ve had a great time putting on shows in their event space this year and we look forward to doing more in the coming months.

From the artist’s statement:

Every time I see a rusty nail on the ground, I put it in my pocket. I dream of what it was before and what it might become. Once I made a sculpture with discarded nails I happened upon and re-membered them. To “remember” is to put back together, to make whole. In my work, I’m interested in giving broken, cast-aside things new life. I want to find the meaning in meaningless. The compulsion to collect detritus seems a pointless gesture, yet it is precisely this “odd” behavior that reveals who we are. I explore the humanness of absurdity and futility through laborious processes, finding value in unfulfilled wishes. I cherish a process of making that invites lived experience and fantasy of what could be.

I started this project while I was thinking about how I feel when things are spilled. The actions are always accidental with a little bit of sadness and guilt. It happens against your will. I often imagine that I have a box inside me that I can throw all kinds of garbage into, such as anger, frustration, anxiety, sorrow, worries, embarrassment, awkward uneasiness… My box is often saturated and held up by mere surface tension from spilling. I feel like I am walking this very thin line of spilling everything over.

For me, packing peanuts represent something utterly contradictory. I am so attracted to these wacky shapes, and I kept saving them for the past five years every time I received packages at work. They are born to provide protections for human consumptions, alas, they will outlive all of us and add more volume in the garbage dump. Where do they all go? Where do we all go?

In my early 20’s I escaped Japan and came to the US. As a woman and resident “alien” I often think about what it means to go across geographical and emotional borders. This question of fitting in is deeply embedded in the objects I create. As a Japanese woman, I’ve been told numerous times I must be quiet and demure. I don’t accept this stereotype: I want to make work that has sensitive, delicate details, but are bold. I embrace contradiction, parodying my identity as one who doesn’t “fit” in a category.