4th October 2015
The wonderland that is the PARADISE AIR is the stuff of Japanese pop-culture legend. Situated above one of the many Pachinko emporiums, the rooms of this Paradise once housed a love hotel; its rooms themed within a peach wallpapered and dimly lit corridor. For the next two weeks my chamber is a pseudo chapel complete with cheaply replicated pedimented bathroom door, half doric columns, a niche housing a mirror replacing the otherwise idol and an alter wardrobe. While rolling on the floor with laughter, I slowly acclimatise to these dreamy surroundings and begin setting up with an aim to complete the test pieces of an equally idiosyncratic drawing project. Tensioning wires and suspending sheets of newsprint joined with masking-tape take up most of the day, whilst calculating perspectives, paper sizes and scales most of the mind. We close the arched double glazed windows and shut the street festivities out, for once not partaking in the goodies on offer. Instead we let our own little Shangri-La gear us up to keep our word in this promised land.
The sketchbook sees the first drawing, referencing Robin Evans’ “Translations from Drawing to Building and other essays”. Passageways within architecture are literal manifestation of movement and it is these transitional spaces that I render to convey movement in drawing, whilst compelling tangible shifts in order to view them . Evans’ observes that in circa 1650 “The corridor was not an exclusive means of access, but was installed parallel to interconnecting rooms.” The room themselves, at this time, permitted trespassing, leading from one to another in a series of interconnected chambers. The first sketchbook rendition then works as a staring point to explore such an interconnectivity and imagines interiors of rooms that are both public and private simultaneously.
For more information on Paradise Air and on the residency programs, events and updates, visit http://paradiseair.info