2023
WHERE THE MOUNTAINS GLOW
Uranium glass, inverted historical archive printed on metal, black light, light stand, paper scroll
Installation: Various (four 8 x 10 in. metal prints with uranium glass)
Accompanied with a 30 x 310 in. scroll listing every known uranium mine on Navajo nation
Where the Mountains Glow is a multimedia piece consisting of four uranium glass objects (a Peacemaker Revolver, a Native American head in traditional headwear, an arrow head, and a butterfly). I have placed these objects, relics of the Industrial Revolution, Modernization and Colonization, onto four images taken from various photographic archives such as Times Magazine and the Associated Press.
A recent direction in my artistic practice is to bridge the gap in who is seen as nuclear victims. My heritage, as a third generation hibakusha (atomic bomb victim), is seen as the epitome of nuclear victimhood. However, Americans and Native Americans were often some of the first and continue to be victimized by the nuclear programs.
Accompanying the objects is a 25’ long roll of paper that lists the abandoned uranium mines on Navajo lands. This collection of objects is a new presentation of a series of data and archives in a way that is monumental. The imagery, objects, and data are all publicly available but are not often addressed due to a variety of factors. Using my own identity, research, and experience Where the Mountains Glow shines a UV black light onto the invisible, forgotten, and ongoing trauma that still inhabits the land and the people.
2023
WHERE THE MOUNTAINS GLOW
Uranium glass, inverted historical archive printed on metal, black light, light stand, paper scroll
Installation: Various (four 8 x 10 in. metal prints with uranium glass)
Accompanied with a 30 x 310 in. scroll listing every known uranium mine on Navajo nation
Where the Mountains Glow is a multimedia piece consisting of four uranium glass objects (a Peacemaker Revolver, a Native American head in traditional headwear, an arrow head, and a butterfly). I have placed these objects, relics of the Industrial Revolution, Modernization and Colonization, onto four images taken from various photographic archives such as Times Magazine and the Associated Press.
A recent direction in my artistic practice is to bridge the gap in who is seen as nuclear victims. My heritage, as a third generation hibakusha (atomic bomb victim), is seen as the epitome of nuclear victimhood. However, Americans and Native Americans were often some of the first and continue to be victimized by the nuclear programs.
Accompanying the objects is a 25’ long roll of paper that lists the abandoned uranium mines on Navajo lands. This collection of objects is a new presentation of a series of data and archives in a way that is monumental. The imagery, objects, and data are all publicly available but are not often addressed due to a variety of factors. Using my own identity, research, and experience Where the Mountains Glow shines a UV black light onto the invisible, forgotten, and ongoing trauma that still inhabits the land and the people.
© 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.