2023
THE UNKNOWN CITIZEN
Oscillating spot light, unprimed canvas, blinking light bulb, transparency inkjet print, Sumi-ink on clear mylar, and 2-channel audio
Installation: 15 x 22 x 12 ft.
The Unknown Citizen is a multimedia installation that contains various elements that contrast individuality with a crafted collective ideal. A sweeping spotlight slowly reveals every new element hidden behind a swath of unmarked canvas – lists of numbers, ghostly impressions of various clothing items, and a series of flashing light bulbs – and acts as a search light hunting throughout the night for any escapees, groups to be potential next victims, and echoes our own searching through the past.
Featured are columns of identification numbers from the 127,000 prisoners of the Japanese internment camps juxtaposed with the imprints of various pieces of clothing, and a series of ten flashing light bulbs – representing the ten internment camps situated in the United States from California to Arkansas. The numbers also reference the larger prison system in use in the United States – an institution that uses the internment camps for their blueprints.
The captured shadows of clothing items depict an imagined and hidden traditional nuclear family but their bodies are lost to us. Instead we see the remnants of the clothing here as a series of ghostly textures both unique yet strangely uniform. To capture these ghostly impressions, Ito soaked these clothing items in Sumi ink and pressed them onto the sheets of mylar, which when illuminated, form the familiar yet spectral shapes.
The symbolism of the imagery shows an often too common recipe used since the invention of modern warfare – to dehumanize others and create a paradigm where harming others not only becomes acceptable but desirable; this is the recipe for cultural scapegoats still in use today as we saw in the Muslim Ban. The Unknown Citizen comes together to present a snapshot of the past and the systematic paradigms utilized to repeat it.
Accompanying the installation is a sound piece made from sampled audio of the 1943 U.S. government-produced film, Japanese Relocation. In the film, the narrator suggests that the Japanese internment process was democratic and humane, stating that the imprisonment was done “with real consideration for the people involved”. For the installation, the sampled audio was heavily modified and stretched to an hour long audio piece.
2023
THE UNKNOWN CITIZEN
Oscillating spot light, unprimed canvas, blinking light bulb, transparency inkjet print, Sumi-ink on clear mylar, and 2-channel audio
Installation: 15 x 22 x 12 ft.
The Unknown Citizen is a multimedia installation that contains various elements that contrast individuality with a crafted collective ideal. A sweeping spotlight slowly reveals every new element hidden behind a swath of unmarked canvas – lists of numbers, ghostly impressions of various clothing items, and a series of flashing light bulbs – and acts as a search light hunting throughout the night for any escapees, groups to be potential next victims, and echoes our own searching through the past.
Featured are columns of identification numbers from the 127,000 prisoners of the Japanese internment camps juxtaposed with the imprints of various pieces of clothing, and a series of ten flashing light bulbs – representing the ten internment camps situated in the United States from California to Arkansas. The numbers also reference the larger prison system in use in the United States – an institution that uses the internment camps for their blueprints.
The captured shadows of clothing items depict an imagined and hidden traditional nuclear family but their bodies are lost to us. Instead we see the remnants of the clothing here as a series of ghostly textures both unique yet strangely uniform. To capture these ghostly impressions, Ito soaked these clothing items in Sumi ink and pressed them onto the sheets of mylar, which when illuminated, form the familiar yet spectral shapes.
The symbolism of the imagery shows an often too common recipe used since the invention of modern warfare – to dehumanize others and create a paradigm where harming others not only becomes acceptable but desirable; this is the recipe for cultural scapegoats still in use today as we saw in the Muslim Ban. The Unknown Citizen comes together to present a snapshot of the past and the systematic paradigms utilized to repeat it.
Accompanying the installation is a sound piece made from sampled audio of the 1943 U.S. government-produced film, Japanese Relocation. In the film, the narrator suggests that the Japanese internment process was democratic and humane, stating that the imprisonment was done “with real consideration for the people involved.” For the installation, the sampled audio was heavily modified and stretched to an hour long audio piece.
© 2023 by Kei Ito.
Created on Editor X.
Sungazing
2015 - Ongoing
108 of 8”x10” prints, Scroll: 12” x 150’ to 220’ depending on the edition
On August 6th 1945, at 8:15 AM, my grandfather witnessed a great tragedy that destroyed nearly everything in Hiroshima. He survived the bombing, yet he lost many of his family members from the explosion and radiation poisoning. As an activist and author, my grandfather fought against the use of nuclear weaponry throughout his life, until he too passed away from cancer when I was ten years old. I remember him saying that day in Hiroshima was like hundreds of suns lighting up the sky.
In order to express the connection between the sun and my family history, I have created 108 letter size prints and a 200 foot long scroll, made by exposing Type-C photographic paper to sunlight. The pattern on the prints/scroll corresponds to my breath. In a darkened room, I pulled the paper in front of a small aperture to expose it to the sun while inhaling, and paused when exhaling. I repeated this action until I breathed 108 times. 108 is a number with ritual significance in Japanese Buddhism; to mark the Japanese New Year, bells toll 108 times, ridding us of our evil passions and desires, and purifying our souls.
If the black parts of the print remind you of a shadow, it is the shadow of my breath, which is itself a registration of my life, a life I share with and owe to my grandfather. The mark of the atomic blast upon his life and upon his breath was passed on to me, and you can see it as the shadow of this print.