KUWASAKO Kana

The camera records the presence of light, wind, sound, and other elements that are not tangible, but are certainly there. It is not a "special" scenery, but various elements overlap and sometimes appear only when recorded through the black box of a camera. It reminded me of the afterimage of the lig...

The camera records the presence of light, wind, sound, and other elements that are not tangible, but are certainly there. It is not a "special" scenery, but various elements overlap and sometimes appear only when recorded through the black box of a camera. It reminded me of the afterimage of the light I saw when I was walking in the forest, which remained strongly behind my eyelids and continued to amplify. The phenomena in front of my eyes and my past memories and experiences kept overlapping and multiplying. The locations are mountains and forests in what is called "nature," but what is this "nature" in the first place? When you enter a forest with a camera, a pitch-black artificial object, its inorganic nature makes you feel a sense of discomfort. However, the definition of "nature" is "everything on earth, including humans," and the inorganic black boxes and the seemingly abstract images they produce are all part of "nature. The inorganic black box and the seemingly abstract images it produces are all part of "nature. The inorganic black box and the seemingly abstract image it creates are all a part of "nature." The superimposed scenery, which can only be seen by the camera's eye, is an artificial landscape that no one can see, but the fact that it was captured by a camera proves that this landscape was real. I am compelled to reaffirm that all of this is "nature" in its entirety. Sometimes I embroider photographs with a needle and thread in order to hold on to these sensations and images, and to make them more solid. By tracing the faint lines on the photo with thread, I move back and forth between certainty and uncertainty, and as the colors and lines that could not be recorded with a camera are layered on top of the photo, they become like an image that amplifies the memory of what I have seen. In all the works, I am manipulated by the photograph as a machine that amplifies the image according to some rules and restrictions, and the unfamiliar scenery keeps appearing in front of my eyes with a strong sense of reality.