At MCA Chicago, Kenzi Shiokava Gets His Long-Awaited Solo Debut

Like a phalanx of choreographed Roman soldiers, Kenzi Shiokava’s totemic wooden sculptures stand guard at the entrance of the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago’s Bergman Gallery. Alert to newcomers, Shiokava’s reworked found objects are indeed an unrelenting force to behold. It might be a matter of volume, a vertical ensemble of 31, or it could be a declaration of form, a forestry populated across three platforms, that spurs this energy on. Whichever and wherever this catalyzing propulsion originates from, matters little when the only hope is to surrender to its presence; for the posthumous artist’s first solo museum show, reverentially titled “Kenzi Shiokava,” there is not much more you could ask for.

It is rare to encounter as terrific an introduction for museum attendees as the one here, particularly useful for visitors unfamiliar with the artist who covertly flew under the radar of mass popularity until the very end of his career. Born in Santa Cruz do Rio Pardo, Brazil, to Japanese immigrant parents from Kagoshima, Japan, Shiokava would spend the majority of his life in Los Angeles, first as a student and then as an established creator until his passing in 2021. Despite maintaining a successful and sizable career, no stranger to institutional selection and inclusion, Shiokava was never quite afforded the singular concentration shown to many of his peers.

Curator Nolan Jimbo has now corrected this wrong, a recognition that, while overdue, nonetheless makes the achievement both greatly deserving and even sweeter. And, Jimbo has done a rather standup job in his effort. One might expect this occasion to materially mirror Shiokava’s instinct of procuring discarded items, or even resemble the artist’s studio, a place filled by matter stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Yet, the curator has pared down the enormity of such potentialities opting instead for a digestible design, presumably a wrangling challenge given the occasion of the show. Letting the works breathe, the objects emerge in full spirit, so masterfully registered and intended by Shiokava years before. True to nature, true to concept.

At the center of the room, Shiokava captivates completely. Split across one large and then two smaller platforms, the stars of the show find ground. Tens of wooden forms rise, shaped by Shiokava’s hands.

From afar, these objects barely reflect their original state. Procuring waysided material and translating it anew was at the heart of the artist’s decades-long practice. Honed throughout much of his career, the process sought a pouring out of an item’s spirit, something he labeled as a form of “archeology,” an embodiment rediscovered. This urgent sense of internal transformation and redefinition preempts the nature of the show, an evolution from what-once-was to what-now-is. Hammers and chisels guided this progression along, the tools revealing affluent surfaces.

“I use discarded wood, railroad ties, telephone poles, beams and other woods shaped by the elements and living things in the environment, and strive to work these materials without losing their natural qualities and by keeping their vitality. To create a form not by imposing a preconceived configuration but by interacting within the structure so that the medium’s own life history becomes the determinant of the final form,” Shiokava’s artist statement from years past describes, displayed alongside other archival ephemera in the exhibition.

Patently unique, the timbering structures are an ecumenical movement. It is the idiosyncratic virtuosity that Shiokava has identified in each form that spreads an immeasurable passion through the respective and collective structures. It may be hard to believe, but enter the space, and the overwhelming transference of energy is staggering. Awkward geometries give the pieces a powerful physicality, almost impossibly so given their largely slender frames; rich in texture, the sculptural forms are remarkable up close. Mountain ranges made from ridges run the length of certain surfaces. Others twist and limber, contorting in unanticipated directions. A select number of them are polished, and a repetition of charred exteriors provides a wonderful contrast. Despite sharing a verticality that stretches them far above any rooted base, the sculptures contain an individuality that only steepens their biomorphic identity.

Whether from a distance or nearby, the abstracted vessels levitate upon inspection, a beholding that in both cases is more akin to an introspection externalized. Many of the most terrific works are adorned with shells and beads, a testament to Shiokava’s finesse for detail and his connection with the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé. Tucked in the back of the room, a projector rolls footage of the artist. He is hunkered over in his studio, silent. Aged but familiar hands work the extremity of an enormous branch. One by one, carved wooden chips fall to the ground. In search of its soul, Shiokava bares it all to his partner, and the object, reciprocating directly back to him, finds harmony.

Then ordered, one after the next on a single wall, a series of Shiokava’s “Boxes” showcase a succession of purposefully assembled but nonetheless random environments. Outfitted into left-behind contraptions, the likes of CD cases, trays and other cavernous entities, the artist has playfully choreographed arrangements of natural objects as well as miniature figurines. It is these latter works, some quixotic mimicry of childhood that are especially bewildering but are also obsessively brilliant. Who else but Shiokava might dream up a configuration of ballerinas, Power Rangers, the Hulk and Disney’s Princess Jasmine to form a surprise familial discovery? Much like the nearby sculptures, these Toy Story-esque displays are profusely animated with newfound character.

The line is long of this winding historical trail of artists that Shiokava is a part of, those who reconstitute found materials. Examples abound. A few are repetitive, but many in the halls of art history are productive. Distinguishing Shiokava from the rest of the pack is the propensity to coax out from items wearily cast aside an internal poetic resonance. Particularly true of his totemic constructs, a turn toward natural materials contrasts him with a generation who developed a preoccupying interest in recycling previously defined objects. Lost in these already complete representations was the legible presence of an artist’s imprint. A Duchampian visibility meant not the haptic presence of another’s intention, but the transparency of an intangible idea.

Found in the treasure trove of Shiokava’s artistry is what is lost when maneuvers such as this transpire. In a society that preemptively rewards perfection without any observable blemish, art that proudly displays spirited impressions, whether it be a whittled groove gone astray or a set of mischievous arrangements of miniatures, is nothing short of refreshing. Surely, if Shiokava were still with us today to see this incredibly generous demonstration, he would with haste, be moving and grooving in delight as he so often did.

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