Alexa Kumiko Hatanaka
Montreal, Que.
Studio: How would you describe your approach to your medium? What made you choose it?
Alexa Kumiko Hatanaka: My practice brings together contemporary, personal and reverent uses of historical craft technologies of my Japanese heritage, including washi, Japanese paper. Washi is endangered, and one of my motivations in using it is to be part of a collective effort to affirm its significance and possibility into the future. I sew washi into sculpture and detailed textiles, incorporating my saved washi scraps. Therefore, each work evolves from one another and is connected across time.
I have recently been excited about creating wearable washi artworks and working with musicians and other performers to activate them, and also to document the wearing of them with collaborations with photographers. Some projects in this vein have manifested as collaborative sound and dance performances that integrate and reinterpret kamiko, garments sewn out of washi that involve traditional techniques of starching the washi.
Washi is an absolutely gorgeous and versatile material and diverse in its weight, translucency, fibre, texture. By virtue of the fibres used, the clean water used and the specific ways of forming the sheets, it can be very thin while being very strong. This quality naturally lends itself to representing its resiliency in the face of impacts of global industry. It also lends itself naturally to concepts in my work, recently related to the relationship between courage and protection, narratives about grief and joy, and navigating my personal experiences with the interconnectedness of brain health and residual weights of very heartbreaking and challenging experiences.
My intentional choice of material and process also connects me to my heritage and to the disappearing ways of being that have tied humans to their specific places, in a reciprocal relationship to nature. My relationship to washi and its related processes, which began 16 years ago, has deepened over this past year, as I spent two months at Kashiki Seishi, a washi mill of seventh generation washimakers. Working with washi, as well as my own hybrid processes of making paper, I integrate my distinctive visual vernacular of printmaking, gyotaku (traditional Japanese method of non-toxic printing directly from real fish), ink drawing and natural dye.
I practice gyotaku with fish available at grocery stores, sometimes choosing fish that have a personal significance, but I also do it in locations that I visit, often socially with workshop participants and friends. Some special instances of this have been in Nunavut (high Arctic), Fogo Island, Newfoundland and Japan. The fish is always eaten after! I see this process as embodying reciprocal learning and also embedding experience of a place into my work. Additionally, fish is a significant industry historically for Japanese Canadians, including my family.
S: How would you describe yourself, personally and professionally?
AKH: A friend told me that his friends had asked what I was like, as we were embarking on a big project together, and he described me as “crazy and sincere.” haha! I care a lot about what I do, I am very dedicated and work hard. Another friend said I am “incessantly optimistic,” also haha! I am definitely all for discovery, learning a lot from people of other cultures and life stories, and putting a lot of effort into joy and finding great moments of awe for existence. I think this is a way of being informed by a lot of pain, however. It is more about continuing to venture out into the world, finding ways to bring dreamy ideas to life, believing in people's intentions and offering trust…despite all of the data stacked against it. I feel a lot, I take on others’ emotions and feel heavily how much hurt there is in our world, and in our history. But yet...I’m overall, or more so, continue to rise up to being stoked and curious. I love movement, I love being in my body and dancing…I think this is crucial to my well being and in turn my art practice.
I really want to use art to reach out to people that can resonate with my experiences, to evoke affirmation and collectivity with them…particularly with what we refer to as “mental health.” I struggle hard to make my work and therefore each thing feels like a special internal triumph. I have a chronic health condition that means I either cannot make anything at all sometimes or at a reduced capacity, or with much discomfort. I think there’s a lot of nuance needed in communicating about these things, to educate out of misconceptions, and to make the effort for the important need for people to feel seen and not alone. I’m lucky to be able to make my work for a living…to be able to spend my days doing something that is meaningful to me, that facilitates me meeting lots of people, that allows me to travel a bunch, that gives me the choice to create ways to come together with people...so I want to embody ways of healing within the process of my practice that then enables me to contribute more and also create work that can tangibly and deeply affect someone. That’s a cool choice to have and as much as it is really exhausting to be an artist sometimes, I don’t take my position for granted.
S: What inspires you?
AKH: I am super inspired by those that dedicate themselves to crafts, keeping traditional knowledge alive. It is beautiful and admirable, often reliant on family working together, and frankly just a lot of sustained hardcore labour. While it is often motivated by intimate and ancestral care of the practices, it is also a generous gift for humanity. I am inspired by how this also requires a deep understanding and connection to specific natural environments, a type of relationship that is disappearing.
S: What do you see as your contribution to the field of your craft?
AKH: I think I partially answered this in the other question but I would say reinterpreting and bringing diasporic and personal perspectives and interactions with traditional methods is a part of sustaining them. I think a lot about what the integrity of a craft or tradition is and therefore what the threshold is to balance out respect for it with the value of bringing in new life and ideas.
I recently felt very warmly affirmed by meeting washi makers that were taken by my work and excited to see how I work with the materials. Also more broadly, I showed my work in Japan and there was interest and also first time connections to the traditions embedded in my contemporary work, as they are so rarely practiced now. I want to share and exchange with all walks of life though. I think it’s important to stress that these traditions are not to be relegated to one place, but also to not be niche engagements in the art world. That’s why I’m so excited by working with musicians, performers and photographers to share particularly how my wearable works can live in the world, in daily life, to be part of expression to a wide audience, to engage with fashion, and design and so on.
S: What wisdom do you want to impart to younger makers?
AKH: I would say to follow your curiosity without specific intention. I don’t think you can plan how you arrive at the particular processes that resonate with you. If it’s accessible to you I would highly suggest traveling to experience other perspectives and relationships to the idea of art and craft, reasons for making, nuances due to expressions of particular contexts.
I think collaboration can be very fruitful. It’s a great opportunity and exercise to learn a lot about yourself and how you like to work as well. Importantly, it is relational and it’s important to establish a relationship prior to working together if possible. I tend to get super excited about projects but in that excitement it’s easy to miss indicators of misalignment or unclear intentions or the potential for unbalanced contribution or a lack of respect. Those are hard learning experiences, and probably not avoidable entirely, but I think it's good to aim to move a bit slowly.
Also, don’t be afraid to reach out to artists or makers that inspire you. Artists can have an intimidating facade, not even intentionally, and as I reach out more to meet artists I admire I often find they are very kind and appreciative of the support and are willing to meet.
I also think it’s great to speak with many different people about your work and interests, including “non artists.” I get ideas from all sorts of unexpected moments and conversations. I think it’s so special to commune with other artists but also easy to then to find yourself mostly hanging out with only artists and for me if feels really stimulating to hear about the motivations, ideas and processes of musicians, architects…and also life perspective of people that don't consider themselves within the creative field.
I would also say it's so easy to get caught up in the pressure to be productive all the time. I definitely did that and continue to catch myself in that, but it isn’t natural. I think it feels counterintuitive sometimes to take a break for absorbing and resting even when you have deadlines, but sleep and play and time present that has nothing to do directly with what you’re working on will give you the energy to do your best work. I’ve often found I would push through and work all the time in the past but the quality of my energy and focus was lower anyway so it wasn't really worth/ or wasn’t as productive in the end anyway! Don’t be in a rush to get to the next thing! Even if you need to do a side hustle that feels really unrelated and an energy suck, try to make the most of any experience and you never know how it may unexpectedly be important to you in connecting you to people or learning something that actually is relevant.
Alexa Kumiko Hatanaka
instagram: @alexahatanaka
website: alexahatanaka.com/
This article was published in the Spring/Summer 2024 issue of Studio Magazine.