Creating Life: The Inevitability of the Palm and the Sculpting of Fragility

For me, "silence" is not merely the absence of sound. It is a rich form of time—a way to attend to the quiet "breath" of those who exist within it. When confronting my work, this silence serves as an "entrance to dialogue" to dive into the presence residing deep within the figure.

The history of sculpture holds a tradition of "powerful beauty" that pursues ideals and eternity, overwhelming the viewer. However, I sense another truth within the "wavering" and "uncertainty" that everyone carries—a truth that resides within qualities distinct from such rigid outlines.

Instead of indicating a single ridgeline, I form shapes by layering undulations driven by curiosity. To allow these frail overlaps to manifest as they are, without concealment, is what I believe to be a sincere form of creation.
 

A Cosmos in the Palm: Intimate Distance

I continue to create figures of human beings that fit in the palm of my hand. Growing up with two siblings and without a room of my own, my only private space was the small area atop "my desk." Playing with dolls and weaving my own stories in that tiny area was a solitary yet rich formative experience. It became the necessity for my current work to reside within the scale of the palm. I do not aim to create objects of power for admiration, but rather "living scenes" where inhabitants of a fantasy world naturally appear and coexist in a corner of reality.

To cradle the small form in both hands, to cherish it and behold it with affection (Mederu) through the transitions of daily life. Through the time spent together, the relationship with the figure is nurtured quietly and surely. This intimate connection, possible only through the scale of the palm, is the very form of the value of "fragility" that I believe in.

It is also similar to the nature of Wagashi (traditional Japanese sweets), long cherished in Japanese culture. Wagashi begins from the universal source of water, using everyday materials to encapsulate the transition of seasons and the presence of vast mountains and rivers within a single piece. It is not that bigger is better; rather, while adhering to the "aesthetics of appropriateness" that complements the culture of tea, it establishes an infinite "cosmos" within that small vessel.

The scale of the palm is likewise the smallest yet largest cosmos, where one can converse as equals with the viewer in daily life and share the direction of the heart and its minute tremors like a mirror.

Dialogue with Materials: The Accumulation of Curiosity and the Nuances of the Heart

I layer the traces of living in that very moment, while continuous in dialogue with both the materials and the human presence.

By layering the skeletal structure of a uniquely blended clay with pigments from around the world, particles of ore and natural earth, pastel, oil paint, Japanese washi paper, and the transparent layers of Paraloid, all guided by the flow of curiosity. and by portraying the soft, delicate subtleties of the human heart. Two distinct paths conflict, overlap, and repeatedly advance and retreat.

It eventually transcends the ideal and is simply engraved as a phenomenon of "layered living time" within the work.
 

Symbiosis with Reality: Forms that Do Not Resist
Light and shadow, gravity, and the sensitivity of the viewer.

These are unavoidable constraints when manifesting a work in the real world.
The stage where my work stands is not only atop a refined art space.
It is within the common activities of daily life where people's breathing can be heard.
Rather than resisting these constraints, I seek a form that nestles close to them, harmonizing in the best possible way.
This, too, is a form of connection with the world, achievable only through creation that embraces wavering and fragility.

What I create is not a finished, perfect image.
Standing at the boundary of light and shadow, wavering and incomplete, these figures are a sanctuary for the heart—a place where the viewer can breathe quietly and return to the sacred space within themselves.



Shogo Hachikubo
7, April 2026

Just as my sculptures evolve with my curiosity, these words will continue to shift and change.​​​​​