U·TSU·SU — The Act of Copying
うつす — a Japanese verb holding four meanings at once:
写す — to copy a form
映す — to reflect, as in a mirror
移す — to transfer, to shift
撮す — to photograph
No single English word contains all four.
This series lives in that untranslatable space —
where copying becomes transmission,
and transmission becomes transformation.
U·TSU·RO·I
うつろい
2022 · Wood · Pigment · Photography
One mask. Three photographs, layered.
The mask shifts slightly between each shot —
catching the moment before expression becomes expression.
The Noh mask is said to carry no face.
In truth, it carries all of them.
To photograph the changing is to ask:
what does the passing of time leave
in the viewer's heart?
on a table
2023 · Wood · Pigment · Photography
A Noh mask belongs upright —
worn, performed, alive in ceremony.
Laid on a table, it becomes an object.
A specimen. A thing.
And yet the brain refuses.
It finds a face.
It finds presence where there should be none.
If a carved piece of wood can feel alive —
where does life reside?
Where does existence begin?
on a table asks what stands between
the object and the face.