"How polite they are, these elegantly geometric, abstract sculptures... !
Punctiliously self-contained, they avoid all loud or untoward gestures."
From Osami Tanaka's perspective, he is sometimes misunderstood by critics who have called his sculptures "minimalist," "symbolic" and "reductive." Tanaka disavows these labels and says, "The object of my work is simply to maximize the very 'beingness' of the materials that I utilize. The inherent sensual and visual qualities of a material are very important to me. I avoid injecting meaning into the final form. There is no symbolism in my work. Wax is wax and steel is steel. Maintaining the honesty and integrity of a material is essential." Before beginning a sculpture, Tanaka says he must first "understand completely" his chosen materials. He chooses an object or material and contemplates them until he feels he has gained sufficient understanding about them -- a process that can take up to three years for each object or material. In his recent work, he combines steel, paraffin wax and soot-blackened wood. Critics have disagreed among themselves as to whether the materials "complement" versus "compete" with each other. Understanding Tanaka's mission of "maximizing the 'beingness' of materials" provides the answer that the materials both complement and compete. Tanaka chose his materials to "contrast" -- the fragility of wax with the strength of wood and steel, the darkness of steel and soot with the ice-like whiteness of wax and, naturally, each material's individual shape against that of the other materials. But each material emphasizes its own nature partly through their dissonance with each other's textures, densities and forms. Notwithstanding the contrasts among his chosen materials, Tanaka achieves a balance in tension, resulting in works that are harmonious and cool. The combinations do not jar; often, the pieces are elegant. This reflects Tanaka's successful comprehension of the "essence" of his materials. When he contemplates a material, Tanaka utilizes a "Japanese versus Western" perspective. He has stated in the past that, whereas many Western artists "manipulate" materials to their own vision or desires, he "likes to look at materials and let the materials dictate to him the forms and shapes in which they should be formed." Certainly, Tanaka's respect for the spirit of his materials supports the appropriateness of "polite" as an adjective that has been ascribed to his works. Nevertheless, Tanaka is a masterful sculptor, adept at choosing his forms. In his current series, he has fashioned tall columns of steel and wax standing closely next to each other or linked side by side; placed a gigantic block of wax atop a similarly-shaped block of steel; created an aquarium effect by mounting a rectangular block of wax atop steel mounts; used steel bands to join blocks of wax with burnt-looking wood; or forced wax and steel to curve unnaturally and yet lyrically together. In an earlier series, he created furniture sculptures including a bed made out of a rusted steel frame topped by a mattress of white wax; a steel chair entirely wrapped in cheesecloth; an all-lead sofa; and steel beds with steel mattresses (some were totally rusted and others totally polished). In all cases, his forms bring attention to the nature of the materials. If Tanaka had sculpted, for example, a gigantic puddle of wax on the floor or fashioned an oversized candle out of wax, the ready-made associations in the viewers' minds of wax with candles and drippings would dilute Tanaka's emphasis on presenting the "essence" of the wax material. When the viewer sees wax manifested in a huge square or rectangular block, the uniqueness of wax taking the form of gigantic boxes makes the viewer marvel and mentally exclaim what is obvious, "That's wax!" Similarly, if the viewer can avoid -- or mentally go beyond -- associating his furniture sculptures with earlier works by the Surrealists, then the viewer realizes that the unexpected manifestation of the objects that Tanaka employs emphasizes the essence of Tanaka's chosen materials. Tanaka fits in well with the vision and identity shared by the artists showing at the Stephen Haller Gallery (New York City). Haller says, "Similar amongst all the gallery artists is their concern with the inner spirit of the work rather than the surface image. They are concerned with the implications of the materials with which they work and the mysterious aspects of images and objects that they render." Haller adds that the imagery of his gallery's artists (including well-respected painters Judith Streeter, Linda Stojak, Elaine Anthony and Hiro Yokose) tend to be "minimal." However, their works are also "filled with emotional gestures" -- in the same manner that Tanaka's sculptures can be considered spiritual. Consequently, Haller calls his artists, "Gestural Minimalists" or "Emotional Minimalists." Certainly, the label fits with Tanaka's "Japanese" aesthetic whereby his works are simple and direct -- even severe -- but, nevertheless, expressive and evocative. (Unlike certain art critics, Haller's use of the word "minimalist'" is directed at the refined nature of Tanaka's work, rather than including him in the broader Minimalist movement.) Though Tanaka's obsession with his materials and forms can be considered intellectual, he is also focused on the mundane. Tanaka may profess to care only about the "very beingness" of his materials; however, there is one piece that makes one wonder whether, in this particular case, Tanaka was concerned with other factors -- perhaps even deeper, philosophical issues. Among his recent series is a piece comprised partly of a square block of wax imprinted with the information that the weight of the wax equalled the birth-weight of his son. As Woody Allen has said after decades of psychoanalysis, there is no such thing as coincidence. When Tanaka chose the form of a square to reference the weight of his new-born son, he chose a geometric shape that denotes perfection. His choice evokes Leonardo Da Vinci's famous drawing of a naked man standing with stretched-out arms and legs within a circle and a square. Just as Da Vinci and his neoPlatonist peers were positing that the proof that God created man is man's physical measurements which coincide with perfect geometric shapes (and, accordingly, proves that, as God's legatee, man has the inherent right to rule the earth), Tanaka could be claiming that his baby equals perfection. It is interesting to consider whether the significance of a square was lost on Tanaka, a master sculptor. He could have fashioned a wax sculpture mirroring his baby's weight but in a different form (for example, a pyramid or rectangular block) to avoid referencing the (mathematical) perfection denoted by a square (box). Or, again, is it just a matter of a sculptor assessing shape and form -- and that the uniqueness of a square block of wax simply highlights the waxiness of wax? If Tanaka's paternal pride affected this particular piece which he stamped with his son's birth weight, the viewer can only be appreciative. His sculptures, after all, have manifested his search for perfection vis a vis discovering and then manifesting the true essence of his materials. And for this particular piece, then, the resulting "gesture" or emotion is Love.