.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
Throughout his career, Teraoka has been an astute observer of cross-cultural exchange between American and Japan, placing a particularly strong focus on the flavors and cuisine of each country. He began recording these experiences in his series 31 Flavors Invading Japan which explored the introduction of Western franchises such as McDonald's and Baskin Robbins to Tokyo. (Fig. 15 & 16) This theme was continued in two later series Los Angeles Sushi Ghost Tales and Los Angeles Sushi Series , which delved into the Japanese sushi craze that had overtaken Los Angeles in the 1970s.
During his time in Los Angeles, Teraoka couldn't believe how enthusiastically local Angelenos embraced Japanese cuisine. This zeal for tasting new and 'exotic' flavors is embodied perfectly by the blue skinned ghost who eagerly crams a salmon nigiri into her mouth in Los Angeles Sushi Ghost Tales/Sushi Assortment (Lot 464). Her blonde streaked hair and craggy hands reaching for a pinch of pickled ginger mimic the stringy mane and yearning grasp of a Japanese female reformat. (Fig. 17) Meanwhile, two other pieces of sushi, which she perhaps has already consumed, float above her head as if they have become ghosts themselves, combusting into fiery red flames like those emitted from the mouths of the hungry spirits depicted in the Kyoto National Museum's Gaki-zoshi (Scroll of the Hungry Ghosts)(Fig. 18).
The 1970s-sushi craze in Los Angeles was hardly the first-time Westerners had become infatuated with a particular aspect of Japanese culture. At the turn of the 19th century, Parisian artists including Monet, Manet, Degas, and American painter Whistler, became fascinated with the bold color and elegant forms of Japanese ukiyo-e. In his 1876 work La Japonaise, Monet depicted his wife Camille clothed in an ornately embroidered Japanesestyle robe. (Fig. 19) Monet had his wife wear a blonde wig to emphasize her western identity, in turn also making the robe and painted fans on the wall behind appear even more glamorously foreign. Camille coyly glances over her shoulder with her back to the viewer, revealing the hunched figure of a samurai brocaded on the fabric. His gnarled face and arms which strain, as if he is attempting to break free from the silken surface, serve as further contrast to Camille's casual elegance. Like Monet's figure, Teraoka's ghost woman is identified as a westerner by her blonde streaked hair and elongated facial features. Despite her undead state, she too is swathed in an elaborately embroidered kimono. Teraoka spares no detail in painting the rich brocade—the characters that inhabit his world are nothing if not well dressed. However, here Teraoka—in his satirical genius—has turned Western-centric Japonisme on its head by reflecting the exoticism back at itself; in his universe, it is the blond woman who appears exotic and unearthly in the Floating World as she hungrily devours the tasty morsels of Japanese cuisine in front of her.
Teraoka's ghostly woman strikes a strong contrast to the Pre-Raphaelite beauty depicted in Preparatory Composition for Los Angeles Sushi Series (Lot 457), draped in her gossamer, rose-colored colored gown which both reveals and conceals like Dante Gabriel Rossetti's Lady Lilith . (Fig. 20) Nevertheless, this romantic figure prepares to devour an uni maki with the same amount of zeal as her supernatural counterpart. Looming over her stands a samurai, one hand holding the shaft of his sword and the other grasping a melting vanilla ice cream cone. The woman glances up—her piece of sushi raised halfway to her lips—as the samurai's cone begins to drip onto her head. Each clutch crumpled napkins, which perhaps allude to rumpled tissue paper, an erotic convention in traditional Japanese art, while their respective food choices suggest phallic imagery. The samurai wipes away rivulets of sweat running down his forehead, further heightening the tension (both sexual and otherwise) within this work.
Teraoka recalls, "When you offer a sweet to a Japanese male, they will say, 'No, that's for women!'. The younger generation is different now, but my generation still has a gender issue, thinking that some foods are appropriate to men and others to women: salty hot stuff for men, and sweets for women." Through this composition, Teraoka not only questions what constitutes an 'exotic' flavor, offering perspectives from his view both as a Japanese and as an American, but also with wry humor, bringing to light the rapidly changing gender norms in Japan and overseas.
During his time in Los Angeles, Teraoka couldn't believe how enthusiastically local Angelenos embraced Japanese cuisine. This zeal for tasting new and 'exotic' flavors is embodied perfectly by the blue skinned ghost who eagerly crams a salmon nigiri into her mouth in Los Angeles Sushi Ghost Tales/Sushi Assortment (Lot 464). Her blonde streaked hair and craggy hands reaching for a pinch of pickled ginger mimic the stringy mane and yearning grasp of a Japanese female reformat. (Fig. 17) Meanwhile, two other pieces of sushi, which she perhaps has already consumed, float above her head as if they have become ghosts themselves, combusting into fiery red flames like those emitted from the mouths of the hungry spirits depicted in the Kyoto National Museum's Gaki-zoshi (Scroll of the Hungry Ghosts)(Fig. 18).
The 1970s-sushi craze in Los Angeles was hardly the first-time Westerners had become infatuated with a particular aspect of Japanese culture. At the turn of the 19th century, Parisian artists including Monet, Manet, Degas, and American painter Whistler, became fascinated with the bold color and elegant forms of Japanese ukiyo-e. In his 1876 work La Japonaise, Monet depicted his wife Camille clothed in an ornately embroidered Japanesestyle robe. (Fig. 19) Monet had his wife wear a blonde wig to emphasize her western identity, in turn also making the robe and painted fans on the wall behind appear even more glamorously foreign. Camille coyly glances over her shoulder with her back to the viewer, revealing the hunched figure of a samurai brocaded on the fabric. His gnarled face and arms which strain, as if he is attempting to break free from the silken surface, serve as further contrast to Camille's casual elegance. Like Monet's figure, Teraoka's ghost woman is identified as a westerner by her blonde streaked hair and elongated facial features. Despite her undead state, she too is swathed in an elaborately embroidered kimono. Teraoka spares no detail in painting the rich brocade—the characters that inhabit his world are nothing if not well dressed. However, here Teraoka—in his satirical genius—has turned Western-centric Japonisme on its head by reflecting the exoticism back at itself; in his universe, it is the blond woman who appears exotic and unearthly in the Floating World as she hungrily devours the tasty morsels of Japanese cuisine in front of her.
Teraoka's ghostly woman strikes a strong contrast to the Pre-Raphaelite beauty depicted in Preparatory Composition for Los Angeles Sushi Series (Lot 457), draped in her gossamer, rose-colored colored gown which both reveals and conceals like Dante Gabriel Rossetti's Lady Lilith . (Fig. 20) Nevertheless, this romantic figure prepares to devour an uni maki with the same amount of zeal as her supernatural counterpart. Looming over her stands a samurai, one hand holding the shaft of his sword and the other grasping a melting vanilla ice cream cone. The woman glances up—her piece of sushi raised halfway to her lips—as the samurai's cone begins to drip onto her head. Each clutch crumpled napkins, which perhaps allude to rumpled tissue paper, an erotic convention in traditional Japanese art, while their respective food choices suggest phallic imagery. The samurai wipes away rivulets of sweat running down his forehead, further heightening the tension (both sexual and otherwise) within this work.
Teraoka recalls, "When you offer a sweet to a Japanese male, they will say, 'No, that's for women!'. The younger generation is different now, but my generation still has a gender issue, thinking that some foods are appropriate to men and others to women: salty hot stuff for men, and sweets for women." Through this composition, Teraoka not only questions what constitutes an 'exotic' flavor, offering perspectives from his view both as a Japanese and as an American, but also with wry humor, bringing to light the rapidly changing gender norms in Japan and overseas.