Tadanori Yokoo. Shambhala #9 of 14.Japanese, Shôwa era, 1974. Silkscreen with offset text, 85cm x 57cm.
everything becomes illuminated
On a recent trip to the North Shore in Massachusetts as a visiting artist to the Photography Department at Montserrat College of Art, I was fortunate to reconnect with a number of old friends & artist colleagues—finding great inspiration in doing so.
In addition, I was able to study the Seeking Shambhala exhibition at Boston MFA:

Shambhala is a Sanskrit word describing a mythical land whose exact location is hidden behind mist of snow-capped mountains, where peace reigns, wealth abounds, and there is no illness. The West was first introduced to the concept as “Shangri-la” in the 1930s book and film Lost Horizon, but Shambhala, in both physical and spiritual senses, has been part of Tibetan Buddhist art and culture for centuries.

Beyond having an opportunity to revisit the poignant work of Gonkar Gyatso in this exhibition—a contemporary artist dealing with issues of Tibetan identity in exile—and view a varied collection of 17th century Thangka paintings, I was introduced anew to the work of Tadanori Yokoo, a prolific Japanese graphic artist and painter.
a synesthesia of symbolism
Fascinating enough, Yokoo is said to have stumbled upon the concept of Shambhala while researching UFOs. In his edition of the same name, 14 vividly hued silkscreen prints from 1974 are on display in sequence. In Shambhala, Yokoo cleverly interplays underlying rhythms of Buddhist, Hindu & Occult iconography—all in a visual framework built upon appropriated incense box images, rich pop-art alchemy and various inter-linked visual metaphors. The mixture of iconography and relationship suggested by both form and proximity in his work is quite evocative—the multi-layered execution an inspiring exploration of media, representation & meaning—transcending the sometimes literal limitations of graphic design and print making mediums with great depth in both concept and execution.

Tadanori Yokoo. Shambhala #9 of 14.
Japanese, Shôwa era, 1974. Silkscreen with offset text, 85cm x 57cm.


everything becomes illuminated

On a recent trip to the North Shore in Massachusetts as a visiting artist to the Photography Department at Montserrat College of Art, I was fortunate to reconnect with a number of old friends & artist colleagues—finding great inspiration in doing so.

In addition, I was able to study the Seeking Shambhala exhibition at Boston MFA:

Shambhala is a Sanskrit word describing a mythical land whose exact location is hidden behind mist of snow-capped mountains, where peace reigns, wealth abounds, and there is no illness. The West was first introduced to the concept as “Shangri-la” in the 1930s book and film Lost Horizon, but Shambhala, in both physical and spiritual senses, has been part of Tibetan Buddhist art and culture for centuries.

Beyond having an opportunity to revisit the poignant work of Gonkar Gyatso in this exhibition—a contemporary artist dealing with issues of Tibetan identity in exile—and view a varied collection of 17th century Thangka paintings, I was introduced anew to the work of Tadanori Yokoo, a prolific Japanese graphic artist and painter.

a synesthesia of symbolism

Fascinating enough, Yokoo is said to have stumbled upon the concept of Shambhala while researching UFOs. In his edition of the same name, 14 vividly hued silkscreen prints from 1974 are on display in sequence. In Shambhala, Yokoo cleverly interplays underlying rhythms of Buddhist, Hindu & Occult iconography—all in a visual framework built upon appropriated incense box images, rich pop-art alchemy and various inter-linked visual metaphors. The mixture of iconography and relationship suggested by both form and proximity in his work is quite evocative—the multi-layered execution an inspiring exploration of media, representation & meaning—transcending the sometimes literal limitations of graphic design and print making mediums with great depth in both concept and execution.

…ya’know he was like something out
of a W.P.A. project like Dorothea Lange…
Walker Evans, James Agee an’them…
people who had this sense of America…
as a country under seige.

Undergoing a trial during the depression…
a society that… needed it’s dignity back.

Corlis [Benefideo] believed that in order
to effect any political or social change…
you had to know exactly what you
were talking about.

You had to know what the country itself…
the ground… the real thing…
not some political abstraction…
was all about… so he proposed…

Barry Lopez (via The Mappist)

Inspiration to Cultivate

The world is a miracle unfolding in the pitch dark. We are lighting candles.
—Barry Lopez

examining our lives

An investigation of our human responsibilities commingles with a discussion of our daily perception of reality in the film Examined Life, a documentary which places some of today’s most influential thinkers in the day to day context of our world.

It takes tremendous discipline, it takes tremendous courage to think for yourself, to examine yourself…
—Cornel West

The film includes Cornel West, Avital Ronell, Peter Singer, Kwame Anthony Appiah, Martha Nussbaum, Michael Hardt, Slavoj Zizek, Judith Butler and Sunaura Taylor.

courage to face realities of our time

The ironies are unmistakable- the first trans-atlantic cable was connected here on Midway; the scars from the Battle of Midway are unmistakable. Yet now, as a protected area, we can’t help but look at the role this island had in the past, and think about where we are today. This place, a historic moment in World War II, stands a turning point that launched America’s economic dominance of the 20th Century. And so it is here, sitting halfway between the consumers of North America and the consumers of Asia, that we get to stop and consider some of the unintentional consequences of growth, and the responsibilities that we have for our planet.

—Chris Jordan

absence in our presence

For over three years Ashley Gilbertson has been investigating the less than tangible affects of war through a body of work focused on the bedrooms of deceased U.S. soldiers left intact by their families. In this work Bedrooms of the Fallen, Gilbertson seeks to explore the effects of war from a nuanced standpoint while paying homage to the lives of the fallen.

Discussing the work, Gilbertson states “…This is the closest I’ve ever got to explaining to people—who haven’t experienced what I have—what war is”. Indeed, the body of images achieves a haunting success by quietly distilling everything—the ultimate personal effects of war, the null potential of lost lives, the details left behind, the loved ones who bare witness—into the thinning air of absence that ultimately encompasses bereavement. From an individual and grippingly honest standpoint, Gilbertson further discusses some indisputably humane ideas in his recent interview The Consequences of War regarding Bedrooms of the Fallen in VII Magazine.


When viewing this work in the context of his interview with VII Magazine, another message becomes clear through Gilbertson’s discussion of how the attention deficits of our society and our media neglect to consider the long term personal, psychological and emotional fallout of our war theater. By closely coupling these quietly powerful photographs with the striking personal standpoint of the photographer, a further question might be posed: Have we come closer in turning the corner from medium is the message to the messenger is the media?

(Originally published on the APAD blog in Summer 2010)


The past went that-a-way. When faced with a totally new situation, we tend to attach ourselves to the objects, to the flavor of the most recent past.
We look at the present through a rear-view mirror. We march backwards into the future.—Marshall Mcluhan


A favorite spread from a favorite book. Quite amazing to think we’re approaching 100 years of Mcluhanisms…
Some more posts on the A Photo A Day blog here.

The past went that-a-way. When faced with a totally new situation, we tend to attach ourselves to the objects, to the flavor of the most recent past.

We look at the present through a rear-view mirror. We march backwards into the future.Marshall Mcluhan

A favorite spread from a favorite book. Quite amazing to think we’re approaching 100 years of Mcluhanisms…

Some more posts on the A Photo A Day blog here.