Hanayo’s theory of the evolution of happiness in the twenty-first century
Akiko Miki
The British anthropologist Mary Douglas refers to marginal elements that lie outsideclassificatory systems as pollution. If we leave aside the fact that pollution has anegative ring and tends to create misunderstanding if used referring to an artist,
Hanayo cannot help springing to mind when we think about this meaning of the word.
Hanayo continues to transform herself at a dizzying pace as she freely
traverses the demimonde and the fields of fashion, mass media, theatre, music,
dance, and art while moving from Tokyo to London, Hanover, and Berlin. Suchmultidisciplinary activity is not particularly new in art history. Indeed the trend is once
more becoming conspicuous, especially in the recent activities of young artists. To acertain extent however it is possible to identify the core field to which the activities ofmost of the predecessors and colleagues belong, even when the activities straddle
various realms, whereas definitions are completely out of the question in Hanayo’s
case because everything is equally and inextricably interconnected. In that sense,
her art can only be described as something marginal that lies outside classificatory
systems.
How, then, can we understand and explain her unique aesthetics, which seemto defy and kind of categorization? This question formed the starting point fort heexhibition at the Palais de Tokyo, which marks the first time that her solo show has
been presented by a public institution. To putt he question another way, how can weinterpret and evaluate her existence and creativity in the form of an exhibition without
being shackled by the framework and institutions and the context of art in the narrow
sense of the work? In addition to promoting an understanding of diverse approaches
to the visual arts and encouraging a reexamination of existing classificatory systems
and paradigms, what new openings does this experiment provide for interpreting theage in which we live?
“Touché a tout“ aesthetics and a life in performance
Since childhood, Hanayo has resided in different countries and becamefamiliar with a variety of accomplishments the way in which she expresses herself
probably derives from her geisha training, which lasted for seven years. The shock ofseeing the collapse of the Berlin Wall before her eyes convinced her to return toJapan, where she jumped headlong into the geisha world in search of a new arenafor expressing herself. In that world, she learned physical forms of artistic expressionthat created intimate interaction with the surrounding space through singing, dancing,and her own gestures and behavior.
During that period, Hanayo also seems to have acquired the mythology thatlater grew into her unique “touché a tout“ (touching everything) aesthetics, namely, awillingness to undertake anything on a wide level while letting diverse activities
coexist and interconnect without contradiction. If we ignore the danger and boldly
define the roots of her wide-ranging activities, she is first and foremost a performer.
Her singularity lies in the fact that, consciously or not, the element of performancealways exists, regardless of whether music, photography, or her own life is involved.
Her “media-ized“ body creates a myth of the hypermodern geisha who has returned
from abroad, while simultaneously destroying the myth of the photographer and theartist. What appears candid, defenseless, and seemingly graspable as a fixed image
slips away, resolutely refusing to show its true form. Moreover, the object of her
curiosity always expands and nimbly catches hold of other talent around her. By

collaborating with those other people, she absorbs different skills exactly like asponge, enlarging the elusive Hanayo even more.
The place where snapshot photos and girlie art intersect
Work dubbed “girls’ photographs“ began to be turned out by young woman
artists during a new boom in snapshot photos and “girlie art“, genre that have drawn
the attention of the art world since the mid-1990s. At times, Hanayo’s photographs,
too, are discussed in conjunction with “girls’ photographs“, which consist ofsnapshots of daily life that are remarkable for their fresh images and personal touch
but show little technical skill and lack distinction with regard to composition, color,and subject matter. Most of these photographers appeared on the art scene in anage when simple cameras that anybody can operate became available. For nearly
two decades, on the contrary, Hanayo has continued to use an old camera that wasa keepsake from her grandfather, and no significant stylistic changes can be seen inher photographs. Whereas the photographic techniques of most of these womenartists have improved over time, thus reducing the tension generated by theamateurism of the photographs, there has been no technical improvement at all in
Hanayo’s case – far from it. She manifests virtually no interest in acquiring skill; forinstance, she takes pleasure in preserving the accidental effect produced by thetraces of mildew on old film that was shot more than a dozen years ago, in whatmight be called Japanese naturalism. Even the reason for taking the photographs is
unclear, and underexposures, overexposures, and blurring caused by the movementof the camera have increased in recent years.
Hanayo’s photographs do not simply inscribe on paper the fleeting sensibilities
of adolescence; nor do they form a documentary of family album. They are a strange
collection of fragmentary images that differ from both art photos and “mere“ amateur
photos, yet they possess a certain underlying continuity and narrativity. However,they do not form an installation that edits space like the pages of an opened book, asWolfgang Tillman’s display does. The way in which they are displayed initially has thelook of pin-ups devoid of any order or serquentiality. Nevertheless, there exists a flowof time and space that is unique to her. The exhibition of Hanayo's work concurrently
with displays of the work of Tillmans, Erwin Wurm, and Laurent Moriceau at thePalais de Tokyo provided an unexpected opportunity to examine in a comprehensive
way the diverse uses of photography as a medium in contemporary art. In particular,
an interesting contrast is formed by the displays of Tillmans' and Hanayo's work, bothof which at first seem to depict everyday moments yet are fundamentally different.
Whereas the former creates »constructed photos« in which the overall composition iscarefully thought out, the latter appears to deconstruct the world by completely
eliminating the element of artistic intent. Also, Tillmans's photographs in recent years
have come to resemble abstract paintings as a result of his practice of producing
prints in the darkroom without the use of a camera and creating images that attain ahigh level of perfection. Hanayo's images too are acquiring a beauty suggestive ofabstract paintings through extreme underexposure and overexposure and increased
blurriness, in other words, by retreating from photographic perfection.
An Eternal »Enfant Terrible<<Described as »Lolita- like« and »infantile« the world of Hanayo's photographs
is also mentioned in recent discussions about innocence in art. To be sure, girlish
sensibilitiesm pervade Hanayo's work, and the subject of her photographs in the past
few years has shifted mainly to a world that centers on her daughter Tenko, so thisinterpretation is not completely off the mark. However, she in no way treats children

as the principal focus. She does not depict a world that is viewed with fresh childlike
sensibilities, nor does she present a view of children as creatures who fundamentallypossess both innocence and guilt, in which sweetness and devilishness coexist.
Rather, what determines her work is her particular way of life itself, behindthese appearances. In a magazine interview, Hanayo remarked that she feels themost affinity for the ideas expressed in Ashley Montagu 's book Time, Morphology,and Neoteny n the Evolution of Man. »Neoteny,« that is to say, the attainment ofadulthood while retaining special fetal and infantile characteristics, refers to the act of
becoming an adult without losing the curiosity and adventurous spirit that children
possess. To put it another way, it is the act of developing without relinquishing avariety of skills. As we grow older, we are usually forced to choose a specific path tofollow. Adulthood brings with it the fate of specializing. I recall Gaston Bachelard's
remark that the happiest lives are ones that are able to escape this fate. "In thatsense, the existence led by Hanayo in which she expands her range of interests freeof categorical constraints surely represents the happiest way to grow and develop.
Hanayo does not try to directly depict the times; nor is she probably evenconscious of being an artist. Nevertheless, she is clearly a product of her times andstill very much an artist in the sense that her activities are open-ended and constantly
reject definitions. The way of life that she leads, distancing herself from fixed social
categories, conventional wisdom, any rules and adult values, and relying on her own
principles, has a persuasive, untamed power that emanates from her work andactivities as a whole. That is why Hanayo appeals to, and also inspires a bit of fearin, people today who tend to lose sight of the direction in which their own lives areheaded.
To go back to the beginning of this essay, Mary Douglas states that pollution
holds both danger and the latent power to renew and regenerate order. If so, from a
positive perspective, Hanayo may indeed embody pollution in the world we live intoday.
[Translated from Japanese to English by Janet Goff ]