Project “ABC”
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
©️Alexis Bernard
Project “ABC”
This project aims to observe the concepts of “universality” and “diversity” through the cultural contrast between Japan and Canada. In Japan, which has a largely homogeneous social structure and a mono-ethnic identity, diversity is often seen as something that threatens harmony, and there is a tendency toward exclusivity in the context of globalization. In contrast, Canada tends to welcome immigrants from all over the world, and its society is built on the coexistence of many cultures and races. This stark social contrast is the motivation for my research here.
Adopting a collaborative approach, I invite participants to mix a paint color they imagine as “skin color.” This exercise can be based on their actual skin tone, a memory, emotion, or an abstract image. Each mixed color is collected in a small bottle, poured onto a large canvas on the floor, and ultimately all the paints are mixed together. These mixes will eventually be used as the conceptualization of the color of the so-called “humanity” in my paintings.
Why am I so preoccupied with “universality”? This question has become essential for me to recognize my own roots. I have also learned that, in Canada, universality itself can paradoxically become a complex concept—one that potentially excludes diversity. In fact, this is an issue I see reflected in contemporary Japanese society.
In ancient Japan, there was the concept of "universal harmony”—the belief that everything coexists and balances together. This was an aesthetic that embraced difference and contradiction as part of the whole. Later, this philosophy was reinterpreted as “wa”—harmony among people—which became the foundation for social order in Japan. Over time, however, this philosophy shifted toward “homogeneity,” “collectivism,” and the idea of “Japaneseness,” producing a standard of “normality”, and by extension, of “abnormality
This quite reductive binary opposition is something I only became aware of as a framework for my worldview after coming to Canada. What was originally a philosophy of inclusion has, at some point, become a force of exclusion—the distortion of this awareness reveals the danger inherent in the very concept of universality.
As the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein said, “The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” We perceive, divide, and define the world through language and concepts. These can serve as bridges for communication, but they can also be the underlying source of division in human society—manifesting as prejudice, discrimination, social hierarchy, and conflict. In today’s rapidly globalizing and information-driven world, these differences do not simply coexist; they often overlap and interact in increasingly complicated and distorted ways, further accelerating division within society.
It is needless to point out that, when looking at the same thing, people's perceptions differ. I believe it is important to continually negotiate and realign our perceptions through dialogue and openness. It is precisely this kind of ongoing dialogue that I feel helps Canadian society move forward today.
In this project, I chose skin color as a symbol because I realized how deeply I am still influenced by my own supposedly perception of it as “normal”. The act of “gathering” and “mixing” colors symbolizes the relationship between universality and diversity. Whether one focuses on the surface of a single mixed color or the countless processes of blending—all depends on individual perception. Many artworks I have seen in Canada center on dialogue, which feels quite different from my experience in Japan. For this reason, in my project, I encourage encounters and dialogue with others—to transform our perceptions—especially my own.
Takuya Inoue
Solo Exhibition “Difference”
The works shown in this exhibition, “Difference,” are paintings created in parallel with a research project I conducted during an artist residency in Montreal. When I first visited Canada from Japan last year, I became deeply interested in the diversity of people and cultures. Japan has historically been a socially homogeneous society, and what I saw in Montreal was completely the opposite. Within the context of my recent and ongoing theme of “human universality,” I realized the need to reexamine this perception. This is because, in such a diverse society, my perspective itself could be perceived as a form of violence. In other words, presenting a single perspective can unconsciously exclude other perspectives.
The act of making art is a continuous process of selection—how to choose materials, colors, and composition. Especially in painting, there is a power in presenting a single perspective within the frame of a rectangle. In contemporary art, where the meaning of a work and its message to others are placed at the center, how I perceive the world and how I present that viewpoint to others becomes important. But at the same time, there arises the risk of unconsciously excluding all other perspectives. I came to deeply realize that my works until now had been cutting off such “unseen worlds.”
That said, it is also true that this perspective of mine is rooted in the cultural background of Japan. The traditional Japanese values based on ideas such as universal harmony, wa (harmony), ma (the space in between), and wabi-sabi, are grounded in an attitude of trying to capture the essence of things and the invisible by eliminating elements. Because of this, I had also tried to understand others from that perspective. However, by encountering diverse values in Canada, I realized that such minimalist expression may in fact exclude the actual, existing perspectives of others. I had not understood that when different values coexist, conflict, contradiction, and misunderstanding inevitably arise. It was only after coming to this country that I learned such conditions are actually more common. At the same time, I also learned the importance of dialogue—of facing and attempting to understand the perspectives of others.
In the art project “ABC,” which I conducted in Montreal this past spring, I asked participants to create a color by mixing what they imagine as “skin color.” That act became an opportunity for them to speak about their roots, cultural memories, and values. The paint born in that process was not made from my own perspective, but rather, created from the perspectives of others. Through those colors, I received something that had been invisible to me.
In this way, the wavering of my own perspective came to form the core of this new series. I reinterpreted painting as “a medium that weaves in relationships with others,” and instead of determining everything on my own in the process of creation, I incorporated dialogue and participation with others as indispensable elements of the work. As a result, not only what is visible on the surface, but also invisible relationships, time, and traces of thinking that have accumulated appear within the work. The colors created by others, and the fluctuation of my own viewpoint in response to them, are directly reflected in the paintings.
Through this process, several questions arose. For whom are the limited elements of expression distributed? Who is pleased by them, and who is left behind? What are we overlooking in exchange for pursuing beauty and ideals? Within the frame of a painting, countless unseen things are tangled together and coexist while contradicting each other. Who is healed, and who is hurt, by these choices? In the same way, in this world, far more than what is visible, complex and contradictory realities intersect and coexist. These paintings are not an attempt to show “what I see,” but rather, an attempt to question “what I do not see.”
Takuya Inoue
Quebec/Tokyo, Japan artist exchange 2025 Studio CLARK, Montreal, Canada