"This tree is both a place of departure and a place of return for people," says Kohei Nawa. "It concerns the cycle of life and information, echoing the concept of the 'Tree of Life' in myths around the world."

BAZAAR ART recently visited the Tomson Riviera Clubhouse and engaged in a dialogue with artist Kohei Nawa about artistic creation, trees, and eternal energy.

Born in Osaka in 1975, currently residing in Kyoto. Japanese sculptor and professor at Kyoto University of the Arts, founder of the creative platform Sandwich. He graduated with a doctorate in sculpture from Kyoto City University of the Arts and also studied at the Royal Academy of Arts in the UK. As a prominent artist active in the international art world, Nawa's solo exhibitions have taken him to major art cities worldwide, including Tokyo, Seoul, Paris, New York, Hamburg, Shanghai, and São Paulo. His representative projects include the sculpture Throne, a special exhibition at the Louvre Museum in Paris; Aether, a solo exhibition at the Pace Gallery in New York; and significant presentations at the Mori Art Museum in Tokyo and various biennials and art festivals. His work spans sculpture, installation art, and architecture, and he is renowned for exploring the fusion of perception, materiality, and the digital and physical worlds, making him one of the representative artists bridging cutting-edge technology and contemporary art.

For Kohei Nawa, the tree is not only a symbol of nature but also a symbol that transcends the past, present, and future.

In ancient myths, the roots and branches of the tree almost bridged all distances in the universe. In Norse mythology, there is a white ash tree, Yggdrasil, connecting heaven and the underworld. Its leaves reach towards the heavens, its roots penetrate into the netherworld, and eagles and squirrels inhabit its branches, while venomous snakes gnaw at its roots. In the imagination of ancient Central Asians and Siberians, the universe itself was a tree reaching to the heavens. The ancient Indian cosmic tree connecting heaven and earth was inverted, under which Buddha meditated and attained enlightenment. Similarly, the Chinese classic Classic of Mountains and Seas describes a divine tree, Fusang, where ten suns take turns perching on its branches, forming the order of time.

From its earliest beginnings to modern times, the tree has almost been a way of understanding the world. Descartes compared philosophy to a tree to describe the structure of knowledge and logic: the roots represent metaphysics, the trunk physics, and the branches medicine, biology, psychology, ethics, etc. Deleuze and Guattari proposed "anti-tree structure" and "root-stem structure." The tree is both a metaphor and a method.

"From nature to mythology, it all ultimately revolves around the cycle of life and information." This is what Kohei Nawa has always been most concerned with. "I have been exploring this theme through my work, such as in the installation 'Biota (Fauna/Flora)' on Inujima, and the sculpture 'Fountain,' which also uses microbeads as its material, both of which continue this deep reflection on the theme," he says.

Thus, "The Tree of Feathers" was born. The tree, a familiar and eternal symbol of life. The dove, a symbol of peace and freedom, imbues "The Tree of Feathers" with a powerful and emotional warmth.

The slightly swollen branches seem to vibrate gently in the air, providing shade and a sense of growth. Tiny droplets of water flow from the trunk to the ground, seemingly nourishing everything in the surrounding architectural space. Glistening doves perch on it, as if ready to take flight at any moment—Kohei Nawa's famous "PixCell" series, which initially used transparent cells to encapsulate animal specimens, presented a completely new texture for life forms on a microscopic scale. The pigeons on the branches of the "Tree of Perching Feathers" are a continuation and sublimation of this technique. The pigeons' bodies are covered with crystal glass cells, each like a lens, projecting and reflecting different scenes depending on the viewer's position.

Over the past five years of creation, Kohei Nawa and Tomson Group Chairman Tang Zijia have continuously explored the slow and enduring growth of a tree. Ultimately, the "Tree of Perching Feathers" does not rely on the laws of nature to grow, but uses technology and sculptural language to continue the order of life. Its presentation does not overemphasize decoration, nor is it a display of technological and material skills, yet it imbues the space with soul.

From afar, this tree is a vast presence in the pure white light and shadow; up close, its intricate details reflect countless life forms. It is not a natural tree, but a tree where philosophical thought, technology, and art coexist.

Tao Yuanming wrote, "In early summer, the grass and trees grow tall, and the trees around the house are lush and verdant"—in ancient Chinese poetry, trees are not merely scenery, but a sense of space to rest the soul.

Why are trees so captivating? It takes root downwards and grows upwards. It is the cornerstone of the natural ecosystem, the root of every regional culture, and, to some extent, a metaphor for our existence.

Countless people yearn to find their own "tree." The writer Su Tong once wrote with deep sorrow, "Not having a tree is my hidden pain and regret." He lamented the lack of "trees" in his life, saying, "I've spent my whole life repeating this melancholic way of life: brushing past trees. I have no tree. The children of Xishuangbanna have the rainforest, the descendants of loggers in the Greater Khingan Mountains have red pines and birches, the children in the countryside have tallow trees and purple locust trees, but I have no tree." Sanmao's fantasy was romantic: "If there is an afterlife, I want to be a tree, standing eternally… utterly silent, utterly proud. Never relying on, never searching."

German artist Joseph Beuys began planning in 1982 to plant 7,000 oak trees in his hometown of Düsseldorf; British artist Andy Goldsworthy has consistently used trees, branches, moss, and rivers from nature as the basis of his art; and South Korean photographer Lee Myoung-ho has spent over a decade photographing portraits of different tree species in natural environments, highlighting the dignity and divinity of each tree as an individual life form against a solid background. Their creations imply a need and a longing, not merely the absence of an individual, but also the alienation between humanity and nature in the context of modernity. The tree, therefore, transcends its vegetative state, becoming an answer that carries art, spirit, and emotion.

How do we find the "tree" we need, the "tree" that belongs to this era? Humans don't just live in concrete jungles; they also need spiritual foliage for shelter. We yearn for a tree that can converse with us.

In the current rise of bio-art, Kohei Nawa's work offers another perspective. The "Tree of the Feathers," standing in the center of the Tomson Riviera clubhouse, is neither purely natural nor entirely a technological landscape, but rather emphasizes ecological awareness and spiritual essence, constructing a microcosm that is both technologically advanced and spiritually rich.

In the film Perfect Days, the bookstore owner tells the protagonist, holding a book, "Aya Koda deserves more praise. She writes with only ordinary words, yet the book is so profound." This book is The Tree, written by Koda over thirteen years. In her sixties, she visited countless trees. She wrote, "A tree has two lives: one when it stands upright, and the other after it becomes timber."

But there is a third possibility—"The Tree of Perching Feathers" reveals another form of tree life: as an eternal spiritual symbol, rooted in the real world, extending into the realm of imagination, and continuously growing. We converse with the tree, as if conversing with ourselves.

"The Tree of Perching Feathers" creates a poetic dwelling within the urban space.

Even in the most modern urban spaces, we still need to maintain a spiritual connection with nature, to contemplate the essence of life under the shade of a tree. Through this tree, Kohei Nawa constructs an art space where technology and nature, tradition and modernity, matter and spirit coexist harmoniously. Standing silently in the clubhouse, it questions everyone who passes by: What is life? What is eternity?

And the answer may lie hidden in the transparent cells of "The Tree of Perching Feathers," constantly reflecting light and shadow. It belongs not only to Tomson Riviera, but also to everyone willing to stop and reflect, to look up in awe.

“I hope my work will allow people to rediscover the world,” said Kohei Nawa.

BA: This is your first large-scale exhibition in Shanghai. Could you talk about the background and intention behind this work?

KN: In “Tree of Perching Feathers,” PixCell pigeons perch on trees shaped like burgeoning, expanding energy bodies. Various shapes reminiscent of microorganisms or pollen are present throughout the trees, and water droplets fall from the surrounding ground. The diverse life forms gathered around the tree constitute an ecosystem, with the pigeons symbolizing life that has flown away from this place or arrived from afar. This tree, where diverse life coexists and its constituent elements constantly exchange, is both a place of departure and a place of return for humanity.

This time, the combination of pigeons and trees also brought unique inspiration. Pigeons have been regarded as a symbol of peace since ancient times. And, like homing pigeons, pigeons, capable of long-distance flights, are beings free to go anywhere. This resonates with the increasing fragmentation and lack of freedom around the world in 2020, the year this project began, carrying a sense of hope.

BA: How do you understand "vitality" and incorporate it into this creation of a "tree"?

KN: The sun and water are the foundation of life energy, and plants are the life basis connecting these elements with animals and other life forms. Although plants lack a central nervous system, they can spread by attracting and manipulating animals, demonstrating astonishing survival strategies and reproductive capabilities—this vitality itself is a form of wisdom.

However, we often forget this, seemingly regarding human-scale knowledge as the only one and suppressing other life forms. This work hopes to encourage viewers to reimagine the power and wisdom of life.

BA: Your works often coexist with elements such as "technology," "nature," and "life." What philosophical considerations underlie this?

KN: In my view, these three are essentially continuous. The cycle and reaction of matter in nature repeat continuously. At the moment a self-regulating system is formed, life is born and develops wisdom through interaction with the environment. When this wisdom transcends biological boundaries and is externalized, technology emerges, with computers at its forefront.

In other words, technology is a manifestation of a possibility inherent in life and nature; it can be considered alongside the survival strategies of plants and animals as a form of wisdom in a broader sense. Humanity's symbiosis with technology has enabled the expansion of our population, and how this balance will develop in the future is a question that interests me greatly.

BA: You have extensive experience exhibiting overseas. Does this exhibition in China have any special cultural significance or emotional connection?

KN: I visited China several times in the late 2000s, going to Shanghai, Beijing, Shenzhen, Lanzhou, and other places. I still often think of the friends I made then, and our friendship continues. Furthermore, many of the staff at my studio, Sandwich, and the graduate students at Kyoto University of the Arts, where I teach, are Chinese students. They are all very diligent and excellent.

Currently, when facing this art field developed based on Western norms, cultural collaboration across the entire Asian region is probably essential to expressing our position. Moreover, various divisions and oppositions are manifested in the world every day. But I firmly believe that culture should flow slowly like the ocean, and I strongly desire to cultivate more communication through emotion and feeling, using creation as a medium.

In ancient times, there was a man in the state of Lu whose passion was fishing. He used cinnamon wood as bait, crafted a hook of gold, and inlaid his fishing rod with silver wire and gemstones; he even used kingfisher feathers for his line. He was meticulous in his choice of fishing spot and posture, yet he caught very few fish.

Moral of the Story

When doing things, one must prioritize practicality and not excessively pursue formality. Excessive pursuit of formality will only yield the opposite result.

Lessons for Growth

Fishing relies on skill, not on having better equipment to catch more fish. The man in the story didn't realize this, hence his meager catch. In real life, when considering problems, we should also start from practical needs; excessive pursuit of formality will only bring negative consequences.

Once upon a time, in the state of Qi, there lived a timid and somewhat neurotic man. He often pondered strange and inexplicable questions. One day, he suddenly worried that the sky would collapse, leaving everyone with nowhere to escape and crushing them to death. The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became, unable to eat or sleep properly. A friend, seeing his dazed and haggard appearance, was very worried. After learning the reason, he rushed to advise him: "Brother! Why trouble yourself with this? How could the sky possibly collapse? Besides, even if it did, it's not something you can solve by worrying alone. Think more positively!" But no matter what the friend said, he wouldn't believe it and continued to worry about this absurd problem.

Moral of the Story

This fable satirizes those mediocre people who constantly harbor unnecessary worries and anxieties.

Lessons for Growth

The man of Qi in the story worried all day about things that couldn't possibly happen; in reality, his worries were completely unnecessary and purely self-inflicted. In life, we should also avoid such things from happening, and focus our energy on solving practical problems, rather than worrying about unrealistic things.

Xue Tan studied singing under Qin Qing, but before he had fully mastered Qin Qing's skills, he thought he had learned everything and prepared to return home. Qin Qing, hearing this, did not stop him but held a farewell banquet for him on the outskirts of the city. During the banquet, Qin Qing, keeping time, sang a mournful song. His sorrowful voice shook the trees and stopped the clouds in their tracks. Xue Tan, hearing Qin Qing's song, apologized and begged to continue learning from him, never mentioning returning home again.

Moral of the Story

Pride, complacency, and a lack of perseverance will prevent one from learning true skills; admitting mistakes and correcting them is a valuable quality. Lessons Learned

The sea of ​​knowledge is boundless; there is never enough to learn. Xue Tan, however, only scratched the surface, became arrogant and complacent, and gave up halfway. He would never acquire true knowledge. Only by embracing humility and prudence, and striving tirelessly, can we achieve success in our studies.