Tatsuo Kawaguchi

When I was a child, I was taught by my parents that ‘men do not cry’. Sometimes the words were reversed, and I was also told that ‘it is not a man who cries’. I was taught to restrain myself from crying and to be patient. Even so, when I cried, there was a reason and meaning that I could understand in my own way.

On 11 March 2011, I was suddenly informed of the death of Yusuke Nakahara. Yusuke Nakahara was my compass in the sea of art, and one of the greatest comprehenders of my art. I lost such an important person without warning. I burst into tears, in defiance of my parents’ discipline.

On the same day, I completely lost my speech and fell into a state of apraxia.
It is said that a state of apraxia occurs when we unexpectedly come across an event or accident over which our psyche has no control, and that is what happened to me. This is the natural disaster caused by the recent earthquake and the nuclear power plant accident disaster, which in a sense was a man-made disaster triggered by the earthquake.

Since 3.11, I feel as if I have become tearful. I cried at the sad news of Mr Nakahara’s death, and those tears were tears that I myself could understand. However, the tears I cry after 3/11 are tears I have never experienced before. In other words, for some reason, I cry without any clear reason or meaning that I can understand in my own way. They are tears that cannot be fully described by the word ‘sad’ alone, even though the tears must have been caused by sadness. These are tears that cannot be fully expressed by the word sad, although they must be tears because they are sad.

February 2012

(Solo exhibition ‘Let There Be Light’ held in April 2012! Tatsuo Kawaguchi – From the World after 3.11’, a solo exhibition held in April 2012 (text from the catalogue distributed at the Iwaki City Art Museum, Fukushima)).