Wisconsin Life

Manabu Ikeda speaking in Japanese

translator speaking

My paintings also represent the struggle between man and nature. A struggle seen in Manabu Ikeda's painting titled "Meltdown." It hangs in the Chazen Museum of Art in Madison. As a child, I really liked penciling. Just drawing lots of really detailed drawings of pencils. The first thing I sold was actually the first work of art I did at the age of 24. I didn't really have the sense that I was an artist. Now Manabu's Asian-influenced landscapes are displayed around the world. Since 2013, he has been an artist-in-residence at the Chazen. I kind of know how much I can draw. And I figured out, I had three years in Madison. So I kind of calculated how long it would take and what size I could do. -

Manabu Ikeda speaking in Japanese

Translator

So, it's 13 feet horizontally, and 10 feet high. I just kind of got washed away in the painting. It is his largest pen and ink illustration ever. A massive undertaking. The theme of this work is the 2011 triple disaster of the tsunami in Japan, the Fukushima nuclear disaster, and, specifically, the destroyed environment. Over the many days, months, and millions of tiny strokes that followed, this is the image that came into focus at the tip of Manabu's pen. You can see this big tree has fallen down amidst all this disaster. And as it's almost falling over, it's gathering up water and trying to recover at the same time. Manabu's meticulous details stretch the imagination, a "Where's Waldo?" on steroids. So many hidden images revealing a picture within a picture. In the bottom part, you can see a town that's been destroyed. People have lost their lives. In the middle, there's also people using the tree to remake their homes and you can see they're actually planting vegetables in the airplane windows. In his world, anything can happen. In the top, you can see some flowers in full bloom. These are actually camping tents that are blooming. Tents, if you think about it, they're kind of these temporary shelters in a time of disaster. The white ones are meant to represent hope. The black ones, they're kind of representing death. And the little yellow things in the center, all those are babies. And around the yellow centers are mothers and fathers trying to raise up the babies. And right in the center, too, you can see that in the figure of hands praying. So if you see these white wispy parts, it's either people's souls dying going up, or else they're new souls coming down. So it's this interchange of life and death. Seeing these wispy images firsthand, the magnitude of storytelling Manabu painstakingly portrays becomes clear, unlocking ideas from every corner of his mind. I'm actually asked this quite often, whether I can have the patience to deal with this very minute detail. I just focus on one part of my painting. And with my pen, I use almost a building-block type technique to create little stories or little messages. I don't think my work is that difficult. Not difficult perhaps until he dislocated his shoulder in a downhill skiing accident. I was really concerned whether I could actually finish this work or not. Despite his injury, Manabu forged ahead using his other hand. There was really no point in getting depressed about this. So I just decided to finish the work, and to finish it with my left hand. I had never actually drawn anything with my left hand before so this was a big challenge learning how to control my hand because it was actually shaking and not keeping steady. He completes about 4 square inches a day. It actually took two months longer than I had expected. The injury would slow Manabu's progress, but not his determination. This is actually a very tragic painting, but I also wanted to put little spots of humor in, as well. Since I'm living in Madison, I wanted to put in some things like Bucky Badger. Here you can see the Octopus Car Wash, the Home Depot, also Wisconsin Dells. There's lots of little things like that hidden here and there. I wanted to make people imagine, if a disaster came to Madison, how would we react? There is the message of disaster and recovery that I think you can see in all my work. This untitled masterpiece could fetch millions. I don't know at all how much this is going to be worth or how much my work usually sells for. I leave all that up to the gallery and I like to keep it at an arm's distance. I don't really think I'm that famous. I don't think anyone thinks I'm famous and I certainly don't feel famous. Manabu says he's not famous. And yet, art galleries and collectors worldwide want this one man's work. He has reached the pinnacle of Japanese contemporary art. A lot of artists don't like to talk about their own work or describe it, but I think I'm a little different in that regard. When I use my work as a way to communicate with people, that's really the source of my passion for my work.