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海岸線にいる生き物たち, created by Cindy Mochizuki, is inspired by her childhood trips to the seashore.

Note: I read the Japanese edition of this book. I do not know if there is an English edition currently available.

What I liked:

• My inner art historian loved the presentation of this book. The inky, blue, black, and gray illustrations on the clean white pages – specifically, the deceptive simplicity of the images, perhaps evoked by their relatively small size compared to the vast expanse of the background – lent a dreamlike quality to the story.
• Similarly, Mochizuki’s abstract, largely unidentifiable (though this may be a lack of knowledge of ocean creatures on my part) creature depictions might represent the shifting realities of our dreams. I also wonder if memory or nostalgia is meant to be depicted as a form of dreaming. Mochizuki dedicates the book to her father, the person who took her to the seashore to look for ocean creatures. When we as creators draw upon our past experiences to inform our present work, is this a form of dreaming? Of course, this is not to say dreaming is the only possible lens through which to view this book, but I’m fascinated by the possible interplay amongst dreaming, memory, and (re)telling or (re)creating narrative. What are the implications for, say, documenting JA community history? Kiku Hughes explores this notion in Displacement and Brandon Shimoda frequently references dreams in his writings – what other examples exist in nikkei literature and arts?
• In a more general sense, family and family-related things (memories of family, family traditions, family foods, family history, etc.) are especially predominant in diaspora Asian (specifically Asian American, in my experience) work. Within these works, how might we, as diaspora Asian/Asian American audiences, consider the role of language? Language can be variously a privilege/advantage and a disadvantage, depending on the situation. In Mochizuki’s case, she clearly is at ease within Japanese as a language. How might this book have turned out differently if Mochizuki was not fluent in Japanese? What is the relationship between language and memory in Asian diaspora spaces? I often come across diaspora Asians who say they once knew their cultural language as a child, but have forgotten it as an adult. What does it mean for a diaspora Asian creator to (re)create a memory based in a language they no longer remember? Are there connections between this type of creation/documentation and common practices utilized for oral history recordings?

What I learned:

• Mochizuki is based in Canada, but has also worked in Japan, and appears to move fluidly between cultures and languages. Her process in creating this book, as well as the aesthetic of the final product, reminded me very much of processes and aesthetics I identify more with nihonjin rather than nikkei. At the same time, Mochizuki’s collaboration with Canadian students (as described in her author’s note at the end) is not something which could have happened in Japan – but does the fact of this collaboration automatically render this project a nikkei rather than nihonjin project? (It would, however, be possible for a nihonjin artist to collaborate with Canadian or other non-Japanese students.) Personally, I feel Mochizuki’s project could be displayed in a museum inside or outside Japan (in other words, could be described as both OR either a nihonjin or nikkei project), without seeming out of place, and it is this quality which makes me wonder if Mochizuki’s work is an example of a ‘global nikkei aesthetic’ (see below for details). I would consider this distinct from, for example, an artist like Kusama Yayoi, whose work has a global reach and appeal, but who seems to be considered predominantly a nihonjin artist by nihonjin and nikkei alike.* That said, I can’t speak for the flip side of the equation – maybe Mochizuki’s work, even if entirely presented in Japanese, with what appears to me to be a nihonjin aesthetic (a nihonjin-passing aesthetic?) informed by nihonjin(-esque) logics, would still be considered predominantly nikkei work by nihonjin audiences? Sometimes, it seems to me that nikkei creators, no matter their background or skill set, are measured by their perceived ability to emulate nihonjin behaviors and standards, by nihonjin audiences.

Questions I had:

• Is there an anthology of nikkei scholars sharing their thoughts on a global nikkei aesthetic? Or aesthetics? I’m not sure if this is an existing field of study, but if not, I imagine it will be in the future. Personally, I don’t envision a global nikkei aesthetic as a singular style, but rather an inclusive study of how Japanese artists inside and outside Japan exchange, expand, and invent aesthetic notions based on their relationships to and/or understandings of ‘Japanese-ness.’ I need to check my TBR again to see if I’ve already come across a relevant book.

Follow-up:

• I would love to see Mochizuki produce more books!

*I chose Kusama Yayoi as an example because I saw her work on display when I visited a museum of contemporary art on my most recent trip to Japan and incidentally, while reading Mochizuki’s book, I thought of that same museum because I could easily envision Mochizuki creating an installation there. I imagine this book would be projected on a screen (sort of like a giant e-reader), to be manipulated freely by the viewer, in a setting designed to look like the seashore. There might be ocean sounds playing in the background, maybe even sand and shells scattered underfoot. Additionally, there might be physical copies of this book lying at intervals, sometimes half-buried in the sand, available to be perused at will, etc. I am not an installation artist, but I feel this sort of arrangement would have fit perfectly into that museum.