Fumitsugu Takedo: Only shallow
Edition of 20
Signed
48 pages
Size: 210 mm × 148 mm
After binding, original hand-drawn patterns are affixed to the front and back covers
Original photographic print used for the cover
Around 2021, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I was making collages and printing photographs on washi paper, dissolving them in water. This book gathers scans of those pieces, updating them with new photographs layered on top and bringing them together in book form.
At the time, I may have been trying to give shape to the fragility of society and humanity through collage and delicate washi. But looking back, it feels more as though the weakness of our imagination had melted into those works.
Today, shaped by the over-decorated consumption of events and places on social media and the sudden release of individual voices during the pandemic, society seems to generate even more unstable images than before. Looking closely at the newspapers that supported these works, one slips into a sensation reminiscent of Tarkovsky’s Mirror, swaying between fantasy and reality.
Since the pandemic, in an attempt to soothe the unease rooted deep in people’s minds, the cycle of disappearance and renewal of images has only accelerated—driven by the constant search for stimulation. In the landscapes before us, what, if anything, can still be called “real”?
Fumitsugu Takedo: Only shallow
Edition of 20
Signed
48 pages
Size: 210 mm × 148 mm
After binding, original hand-drawn patterns are affixed to the front and back covers
Original photographic print used for the cover
Around 2021, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I was making collages and printing photographs on washi paper, dissolving them in water. This book gathers scans of those pieces, updating them with new photographs layered on top and bringing them together in book form.
At the time, I may have been trying to give shape to the fragility of society and humanity through collage and delicate washi. But looking back, it feels more as though the weakness of our imagination had melted into those works.
Today, shaped by the over-decorated consumption of events and places on social media and the sudden release of individual voices during the pandemic, society seems to generate even more unstable images than before. Looking closely at the newspapers that supported these works, one slips into a sensation reminiscent of Tarkovsky’s Mirror, swaying between fantasy and reality.
Since the pandemic, in an attempt to soothe the unease rooted deep in people’s minds, the cycle of disappearance and renewal of images has only accelerated—driven by the constant search for stimulation. In the landscapes before us, what, if anything, can still be called “real”?
