Parsa Kamehkhosh: A sense of presence and joy

An interview by Athanasía Aarniosuo

AA: You spent a few months in 2022 at Tokyo Arts and Space Residency. As your artistic practice involves incorporating your daily life, routines, and observations into your work, did the change of scenery bring on changes in your work as well?

PK: With the change of scenery, I expected to see new elements in the ideas that flowed through me. Because you know, when it comes to my art practice, I am hesitant to label myself as a creator. Instead, I see myself as a “door” through which certain ideas emerge, and to fulfill this role, I must be present, a challenging quality that I describe as being in the world.

This was my first trip to Japan, and I intentionally refrained from researching the country beforehand. I wanted the experience to be new and unfiltered, which it certainly was. In these situations, the mind enters an alert mode, in which one becomes fully engrossed in their surroundings, absorbing as much information as possible to navigate the new environment. Even simple acts like buying bread or crossing the street required absolute attention and sometimes demanded unlearning and relearning. This state of being usually extremely tiring and causes a lot of confusion as well, and I knew that all I need to do is try to be present (even if it means embracing my confusion) and wait for the digestion of new experiences to naturally manifest in my practice. Now a few months later, I would say some of the lessons I learned there or there have remained with me and will likely continue to influence my work in the future.

AA: I mentioned routine, but it seems to me that in your work emotions are bigger than routine, and experiencing life is never banal, not even at its most repetitive. How did the change of scenery make you feel?

PK: Sticking to a certain routine or discipline can sometimes help me reach a state of flow, and for me, being in the zone, feeling connected to the world, and experiencing joy are all interconnected. In fact, joy is an emotion that is truly compatible with my practice.

However, traveling can make it challenging for me to maintain my daily discipline. This was also the case during my residency in Japan, where I initially felt a lot of pressure and confusion due to first, the multitude of new experiences and second, the unexpectedly dense concrete structure of the neighborhood I was in. During the past eight years of living in Finland, I made a close bond with trees that I found surprisingly tough living without it in a dense city. Adding to that, my experience of getting Covid right after arriving in Tokyo, forced me to stay indoors for ten days which made me crave nature even more. Thus I would say regaining a sense of presence and joy turned into a goal of my practice in this residency, and I managed to achieve this through cycling. Every day, I used to go on a quest to find a piece of nature in or around the city to sit and wait. Through these daily trips, I had a blast experiencing a uniquely magical aura of nature in Japan which granted me a sense of connection to the new land.

Cycling also allowed me to be agile and flexible and visit many places that otherwise I might have never run into. It helped me become part of the daily life of the city and provided me with a much-needed sense of freedom and exploration.

AA: Did you plan the residency period in advance? Did the ideas that occupied your mind and your work while in Japan differ from what you expected?

PK: Before leaving for Japan, I articulated my plan as follows: “I intend to explore the concept of process and processing in the context of Japanese philosophy and the ethics of craft, with a particular focus on performance as an art practice. This will involve closely observing the elements of space, body, materials, and duration in craft traditions, as well as attempting to connect with the supernatural dimensions of the Japanese workspace.”

Looking back on my residency, I’m struck by how well the final piece aligned with my original plan. However, I now realize that the process of arriving at that piece was more organic than I had anticipated. Having a loose framework to guide my exploration, I remained open to the unexpected and allowed different elements to converge naturally. As a result, I had little control over how my ideas took shape and I think my willingness to relinquish control was an important factor in how everything worked.

AA: Did you experience any surprises, unforeseen encounters, or revelations?

 PK: One of the most unexpected things was getting COVID right after arriving in Tokyo, which meant that the first place I visited, other than my room, was a hospital. However, apart from that, most of my experiences in Japan were full of subtle surprises or I would say realizations. For instance, I can refer to my realizations about the notion of light and shadow in Japanese culture which literally altered my understanding of them and already showed itself in the piece I performed at the end of the residency.

AA: Did any new ideas, conceived in Japan, develop into finished works or ongoing processes while back in Helsinki?

PK: The name of the piece I presented at the open studio at the end of my residency in Tokyo was ‘Rubbing a Stone on a Piece of Wood in the Neighborhood.’ As the title implies, the piece involved rubbing a stone on a piece of cedar wood. To create this piece, I built a working station that fits in the narrow 47 cm space between two buildings near the residency. For nine days in a row, I started 30 minutes before sunset and continued the repetitive act of rubbing for one hour until it got dark.

This piece ended up being the catalyst for a year-long project that I am currently planning, set to debut in 2024.

parsa-kamehkhosh.com

The August Round and Residencies

Finnish Cultural Foundation’s residency programme is maintained and developed in collaboration with HIAP – Helsinki International Artist Programme.

Text: Athanasía Aarniosuo

Wabi-Sabi

Noora has been an admirer of the Japanese aesthetic and lifestyle ever since she was a student in England in 2009. During that time, she was especially interested in Japanese design, and her dissertation investigated clothes through a Japanese understanding of space. Years later, she was further pursuing studies, this time at the Valand Academy in Göteborg, Sweden. She realised that the Japanese aesthetic, and especially the concept of wabi-sabi, kept popping up in her thoughts and in her work. However, despite the appeal and allure, the concepts were not too clear to her at that point, and she felt a strong need to travel to Japan to investigate them further.

The opportunity arrived in 2019, when Noora was able to travel to the Tokyo Art and Space residency through a Finnish Cultural Foundation scholarship. She found in Japan a curiosity towards her research on boredom as well as an encouragement to explore the concepts of wabi-sabi through her own practice. A dialogue with the very helpful employees of the residency helped Noora understand a very important aspect of Japanese culture: the idea that in order to understand something, one must practice and experience, try and sometimes fail, yet always learn.

While Noora had initially planned to meet researchers and experts to discuss her subjects of interest, she was encouraged to experience them instead. So, she found herself participating in tea ceremonies and butoh dance theatre classes. She also purchased a rail card and visited Sapporo and Hiroshima, among other places. She visited the Setouchi Triennale and met up with local artists and artisans. She was made to feel welcome, with everyone happily giving her their time and sharing their knowledge. The other residency artists, both Japanese and international, were also eager to discuss, share, and work together.

In order to understand something, one must practice and experience, try and sometimes fail, yet always learn.

An exhibition at the end of the residency period showcased a map of Noora’s research, complete with a projected video work that combined locality with further travel. Noora’s three months in Japan were extremely busy and vivacious, and full of adventures, thus perfectly reflecting the Japanese learning experience. Did she figure out what the wabi-sabi is, in the end? “It is an eternal process,” Noora laughs. She definitely understood it better through her exploration, her participation, and confluence of events. She realised that while she can immerse herself in the Japanese culture, she will always be looking at it from the outside, from her own culture and life experience. Noora mentions discovering the writings of Minna Eväsoja after her trip to Tokyo, and especially the book Teetaide ja runous – Wabi ja sabi japanilaisessa estetiikassa (which translates as “Tea art and poetry – wabi and sabi in Japanese aesthetics”). In the book Eväsoja points out that while the wabi-sabi is often looked at as one concept in the Western world, it should, actually, be viewed as two separate notions: wabi and sabi.

While the understanding of wabi and sabi will continue throughout Noora’s life, she understands it at this point in time to mean beauty that approaches perfection through imperfection and accepting life as it comes.

Boredom

After her graduation from the Valand Academy in 2018, Noora has widely explored the topic of boredom. Prior to her trip to Japan, she spent some time working at an artists’ residency in Iceland. The research Noora undertook during that residency period formed the foundations of a touring exhibition titled Life is dangerous. In its 2020 twin exhibition, titled Life is boring, Noora and her collaborators investigate boredom and being bored in contemporary society in a series of events. In the exhibition Lehtovuori is looking for and reflecting on boredom in collaboration with various artists and creators: in Kannelmäki with Anne Törnroos, in Oulu with Lin Chih Tung, in Kauhava with Oula Rytkönen, and in Berlin with Hannah Bohnen. Each artist has a different approach to the theme, with different strengths, but they all have one thing in common: they see much potential in feeling bored.

The touring exhibition Life is boring was initialised immediately after Noora’s Tokyo residency, and some of the themes investigated are a direct response to the Japanese lifestyle that she experienced. For example, they practice together with curator Lin Chih Tung slow walking in the gallery setting which was inspired by Japanese butoh performance. The exhibition toured in Finland (with one event in Berlin), but there is definitely enough research material for further installations to an even wider audience. Noora recently presented the work at the Royal College of Art in London, and there is a publication planned.

Two years have now passed since her residency trip to Tokyo Art and Space, and while some of the experiences resulted in immediate reactions that became evident in her work upon her return, some others curled up like a ball of yarn that she has only recently begun to unravel. Currently, Noora is finalising her curatorial studies at the Praxis master’s programme at the Academy of Fine Arts in Helsinki. Her master’s thesis deals with dialogue in curating, and it has also been influenced by Japanese culture and thinking. Therefore, the time is perfect for going through the photos taken during those intense and lively three months two years ago.

Finnish Cultural Foundation’s residency programme is maintained and developed in collaboration with HIAP – Helsinki International Artist Programme. Photos provided by the artist.