Sean Talley
Once again Muji is hosting their annual International Design Competition. This time they’re seeking inspiration from traditional and regional crafts and techniques.
MUJI is pleased to announce the launch of its third MUJI AWARD International Design Competition. Its theme this time is “Found MUJI”. Since it was established in Japan 28 years ago, MUJI has maintained its approach of observing and thinking about everyday life. This involves taking a view of the world, learning from the wisdom of predecessors, discovering the benefits of something that has been used for a long period of time and translating these ideas into the design of products that are consistent with our current lifestyle. Taking on this approach what can you create, when considering the life, culture and tradition of a particular region of the world, giving it a MUJI viewpoint, while at the same time respecting its origins? MUJI is hoping to receive timeless and convincing designs from around the world.
I’ve been discussing the theme with my friend, Jefferson Cheng, and we’ve been looking in a lot of different places for our submission—but we haven’t found it yet. So I thought I’d take a look around here on my blog. Any ideas?
The entry period is July 1–31, 2008.
Masanobu Fukuoka is the grandfather of the slow life movement. He spent 30 years developing the concept of “do nothing” farming, a method for relying on the balance of the natural world to produce food while doing as little as possible to interfere. Then he wrote a book about it—The One Straw Revolution.
“Why do [we] have to develop? If economic growth rises from 5% to 10% is happiness going to double? What’s wrong with a growth rate of 0%? Isn’t this a rather stable kind of economics? Could there be anything better than living simply and taking it easy?”
People find something out, learn how it works, and put nature to use, thinking this will be for the good of humankind. The result of all this, up to now, is that the planet has become polluted, people have become confused, and we have invited in the chaos of modern times.
At this farm we practice “do-nothing” farming and eat wholesome and delicious grains, vegetables, and citrus. There is meaning and basic satisfaction just in living close to the source of things. Life is song and poetry.
The farmer became too busy when people began to investigate the world and decided that it would be “good” if we did this or that. These thirty years have taught me that farmers would have been better off doing almost nothing at all.
The more people do, the more society develops, the more problems arise. The increasing desolation of nature, the exhaustion of resources, the uneasiness and disintegration of the human spirit, all have been brought about by humanity’s trying to accomplish something. Originally there was no reason to progress, and nothing that had to be done. We have come to the point at which there is no other way than to bring about a “movement” not to bring anything about.
The book is not exactly a guide to Fukuoka’s farming techniques. It’s more like a manifesto, and it’s incredibly inspirational. A quick and captivating read, The One Straw Revolution left me embracing purposelessness.
The other morning I heard a four-year-old girl ask her mother, “Why was I born into this world? To go to nursery school?”
Naturally her mother could not honestly say, “Yes, that’s right, so off you go.” And yet, you could say that people these days are born to go to nursery school.
Right up through college people study diligently to learn why they were born. Scholars and philosophers, even if they ruin their lives in the attempt, say they will be satisfied to understand this one thing.
Originally human beings had no purpose. Now, dreaming up some purpose or other, they struggle away trying to find the meaning of life. It is a one-man wrestling match. There is no purpose one has to think about, or go out in search of. You would do well to ask the children whether or not a life without purpose is meaningless.
Our landfills are full because we don’t actually need 99% of the things that we produce. People have a real need for food and shelter. In order to get food and shelter people need money. In order to get money they must have a job. So countless unnecessary jobs are created in order to justify giving people money. To make these jobs profitable, other working people must give a portion of their pay for things that they’ll soon cast into the landfill. The result is that people’s lives are wasted struggling at unpleasant, unnecessary jobs, and the planet is destroyed in the process.
When I envision the most utopian, futuristic, sci-fi civilization, it is inevitably a post-materialist world of minimalist farmers savoring their purposeless lives in a patch of mustard and wild turnips.
I’m happy to announce that my first solo exhibition will open this
Friday at Jancar Jones Gallery in downtown San Francisco. I’ll be
showing a new series of unassuming screen prints on paper. In this new
work, I’ve been focusing on simplicity and lightness. I’ve printed a
set of basic shapes in luminous colors which I hope can be appreciated
as no more or less than what they are.
Jancar Jones Gallery
965 Mission Street, Suite 120
San Francisco, CA 94103
415-281-3770
June 6–28, 2008
Opening Friday, June 6, 5-8PM
You can expect an update to my website soon with documentation from the show.
Peter Greenaway & John Cage, 27 Sounds Manufactured in a Kitchen (1989)
Lawrence Weiner, Nothing to Lose, Side 1 (1976)
Ed Ruscha, Japan is America (1985)
I realize that I won’t be here for very long, but I’m grateful to be a part of this planet while I happen to be alive.
Happy Birthday Earth.
Ellsworth Kelly, Pyramid Postcard (1975)
Kelly had said he didn’t want a tape recorder used for the interview. I’d attributed that to high aesthetic reasons along the lines of Yves Klein’s belief that “colour is enslaved by the line that becomes writing” (or something). But it turned out to be more personal. “I used to have a speech impediment when I was young,” he explains. “I’m not a quick thinker. There’s always been a gap between what I’m saying and what I’m thinking. I hate to read what I’ve said written down. I’m slow. So I find it difficult watching films, for example. The TV. Everything’s so fast. I want to look. I want time. Time to me is very important. Watching the light change in that doorway over there in the past hour, for instance. I want my painting to be like that. In the realness of it. The shadow along the top is very beautiful.”
Touching the Void, The Guardian, March 2006
Carl Andre, Trabum (1977)
The sense of one’s own being in the world is confirmed by the existence of things and others in the world. This is a recognition, a state of being, a state of consciousness—and I don’t wish at all to be portrayed as mystic in that. I don’t thing that it’s mystical at all. I think it’s a true awareness that doesn’t have anything to do with mysticism or religion. It has to do with life as oppose to death and a feeling of the true existence of the world in oneself.