This bridge of beads and blossoms

Elizabeth Cook-Romero | The New Mexican

3/27/2008 - 3/28/08

After earning a bachelor's degree in textile arts from the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music in 2001, Eri Imamura planned to create works that reflected expansive, open spaces. But her tiny Tokyo studio felt constricting, and she found herself recalling her mother's about the big, open landscape she saw during her year as an exchange student in Albuquerque. In one of her mother's old books, Imamura read a Native American poem about earth and sky. It reminded her of the nature imagery common in haiku, Imamura said during a recent interview at Jane Sauer Gallery, and it left her wondering if the inspiration she sought was thousands of miles away.

"I feel like many people in Tokyo are forgetting who we are," she said. "Life is very quick and just about earning money." So Imamura temporarily abandoned her art and traveled to the American Southwest, visiting some of her mother's old friends. In 2003, she returned to Albuquerque and enrolled at The University of New Mexico. She took classes for two years, mainly to learn English. In 2005, she transferred to the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe and graduated in 2007 with an associate degree in indigenous studies.

Imamura was not the first Japanese student to attend IAIA, and she said the school's administrators didn't seem surprised by her request to transfer. "So many New Age people want to be Native American, and they really have to struggle with that," Imamura said about her first meetings with school officials. The only other foreign students during her two years in Santa Fe were also from Japan, and somehow, she said, it felt right for them to be there. "I learned about spirituality from IAIA. I learned from them who I am. They taught me how strongly you are connected to your culture and the land."

Her time at IAIA taught her to appreciate her Japanese heritage, Imamura stressed. "I would never say, 'I know Native American culture,'" she said. "Even though I read enough, I didn't grow up with this." She learned that Native American identity comes from growing up within a community, having a family, and helping children and parents navigate lives lived between two cultures, she said, and she will never have those experiences.

Imamura acknowledges Kiowa artist and teacher Teri Greeves as a major influence on her artistic development. But, she added, Greeves' early instruction seemed harsh. "She taught me beading, but said, 'You cannot use Native American designs, because you are not Native American. Taking a Native American design away is stealing.' She asked, 'Who are you? You are not Native, but you have your culture.' I thought about it, and that really makes sense."

Imamura began seeing connections between the clothes Japanese people wear at their festivals and ceremonies and the regalia that Native people wear at powwows. She began to understand the difference between sacred motifs preserved for special occasions and designs that denote cultural pride and can be shared with outsiders.

For the past year, Imamura has lived in Tokyo, creating beaded deerskin moccasins for infants, necklaces and brooches that feature cranes and plum blossoms, and bags decorated with scenes that evoke old Japanese woodblock prints. Imamura said she is careful not to use techniques or elements that have spiritual relevance to Native Americans.

She has stayed in contact with Greeves and continues to seek advice about what techniques she can incorporate into her art. Greeves told her it was OK to make moccasins and add fringe and horsehair to her beaded bags, she said. Imamura said her art is dedicated to the generosity of her teachers at IAIA.

Two weeks before Eri Imamura: Bridging Traditions was to open at Jane Sauer Gallery, the artist flew from Tokyo to New Mexico with more than a dozen beaded accessories in a carry-on bag. Though small, the suitcase was heavy, she said as she opened it in the gallery's back room. Imamura spread a black kimono on a table with its sleeves outstretched. She then removed two objects that looked like shoulder pads made of beaded deer hide and placed them on the kimono's sleeves.

The kimono, she explained, is a happi coat, an overcoat worn by Japanese men during festivals, and the deer-hide pads represent the kinds of tattoos once worn by workmen. Imamura pointed to the Chinese lion on each shoulder, explaining that one had its mouth open to make an "ah" sound, while the other says "um" with its mouth closed. "Together they create om, a Buddhist sound to represent the universe," Imamura said. "The carp represent a legend that says only a few fish can climb a waterfall and become dragons."

The designs originated in Japanese spirituality and the ancient Shinto understanding of the connections between people and the earth, she said. Due to Western influences and the adoption of tattoos by gangs, Imamura said, most contemporary Japanese people no longer perceive these motifs as positive aspects of their identity. Because the tattoos last a lifetime, designs were chosen carefully. Many firefighters had a dragon tattooed on their backs because that creature was associated with water and might protect the man when he entered a burning building.

Imamura recalled hiring a Japanese photographer who was shocked by her work. He complained that her motifs could be found in gang houses. "For me, it's not fair to say, 'This is for gangs,'" she said. "I want to fight for this."

Although her references to tattoos are controversial in Japan, much of Imamura's work is beautiful and easy to live with. She is beading a series of zodiac bags, small pouches constructed of brain-tanned deer hide decorated with beaded scenes. Her Hitsuji Bag, Sheep shows Monument Valley at sunset. The sky's brilliant reds, lavenders, and golds are constrained by an outline of Mount Fuji. Fluffy white sheep stand in the foreground.

The beadwork in Eri Imamura: Bridging Traditions hints at the many parallels the artist sees in Native American and Japanese spiritual traditions. On one pair of split-toed moccasins, Shinto shrines are paired with Navajo hogans, and a cactus is echoed by bamboo and pine branches.

Many people are skeptical when they hear that Imamura learned how to be Japanese by studying with Native Americans in Santa Fe, but, she said, she knows what she has gained. She pointed to a beaded scene of Tokyo, in which gray pollution takes the form of stylized clouds and the earth is covered with asphalt. In the foreground are pink plum blossoms. "We are who we are," she said. "And we can become stronger and not lose our identity."

details
Eri Imamura: Bridging Traditions
Opening reception 5-7 p.m. Friday, March 28; exhibition through April 15
Jane Sauer Gallery, 652 Canyon Road, 995-8513