KIYOMI FUKUI NANNERY

2024

Mixed media (woodcut, collage and drawing on cotton paper)
Dimension variable —comprised of 2 pieces, ap- prox 150”x40” and 100”x35”

Photographer: Darith Beng

Ghosts of the Marsh features images of two relatively recently extinct species of California wetlands; Los Angeles Sunflower, last seen in 1937, and Cunningham Marsh Cinquefoil, presumably extinct — the last record I was able to find was from 1947. There are very limited visual records on what these two species might have looked like as a live plant. The designs of these plants therefore were drawn from written descriptions from several databases and journals, two photographs of herbarium specimens, as well as various photographs of their related species. The two extinct species can now only be seen in an imagined landscape — in the marshes that once richly covered the California coast, much of which has been lost to our human activities.

2023

Mixed media on wood panel (mokuhanga, collage, drawing with handmade pigments)

This series,Yearning, utilizes pigments that I foraged and cultivated, in an effort to capture memories and connection to the past. The composition is loosely inspired by the California wetlands. Wetlands serves as a metaphor of lost landscape of the past, since through the course of history, California has lost more than 90% of its wetlands (https://mywa-terquality.ca.gov/eco_health/wetlands/).

Mokuhanga is another term for Japanese woodblock printing process. It requires patience and collaboration with elements like the weather and humidity. It also is an additional way for me to connect to the past and my own heritage, as the traditional technique has not changed its form in any drastic way since its boom in Edo period, hundreds of years ago.

2023

Indigo, avocado, rosemary, cannabis, California goldenbush, lavender, purple sage, marigold and ink on cotton, redwood.
6’x12’x1.5” (dimensions variable)

In collaboration with my partner, Michael Nannery. This space divider (byōbu) pays tribute to the life cycle of the sockeye salmon, which spawn in lakes, rivers, or streams, but spend most of their adult life in the Pacific Ocean. Sockeye salmon can be found between northern California and northern California. Through their generational sacrifice, salmon feed and fertilize the forest and its habitants. Their gift of life is paramount.

2016

tea mat, made of gampi paper stained with conversation and various tea

Tea at 3307 was done at 3307 W Washington Blvd, in collaboration with Amanda Katz

photographer: Ash Thayer

read curatorial statement here

On a weekend in October of 2016, I operated a non-monetary tea shop. Guests were invited to select a tea, each characterized by a primary color, along with herbal and spice additions. They would then “pay“ for the tea by having a conversation with the host, leaving stains and memories behind on a tea mat. Each day of the operation was represented in a single tea mat, and in the end, we were left with a set of two tea mats, stained with each other’s presence.

2019, 2020

Photographer: Michael Nannery

Originally started in 2019, this work was shown both at Painting & Sculpture Outpost in Marysville, CA and Flux Art Space in Long Beach, CA. On each origami paper, a transcript of a conversation with my father was screen printed. The conversation was about reaching out to someone I had difficult relationship with, and finding out his experience of growing up as a Korean person in Japan in the post-WWII era. Inspired by the Japanese tradition of thousand paper cranes, a form of ritual and prayer for the impossible, the origami was then folded into cranes with participants, while engaging in conversation about their experiences of feeling “othered”. The stories shared were collected and became part of the evolving installation in the gallery.

Read the accompanying text on Conversation on Conflict here

2016

scrap paper casted in a thumb mold, various seeds

raised beds fabricator: Michael VanOverbeck

photo credit: Isabel Avila

The Green Thumb Project started in early November 2014. Before my mother passed away, I took a mold of her thumb. Although she could not speak by that point, I could tell she was entertained by my action: the pressing of some gooey silicone material against her thumb. She had always been amused by my creative process, that tended to throw people off. Despite the little delight I shared with her in her last moments, I tucked the mold away. It took some time to process the emotions that came with her passing — the thumb  always had a strong resonance to me, persistently lodged in my consciousness. I knew I had to do something with the thumb eventually. It became something through which I could nurture meaning and create a memento of my loss.

The Green Thumb Project is meant to be as pragmatic as it is metaphoric. Within the pursuit of practical application of art in the field of gardening, one is asked to take notice of the parallels between my plants and myself. The thumbs can be thought of as a relic, produced from my sentiment. However, in the process of caring for the thumbs, the efforts and numerous failures took on another layer of meaning. There are ups and downs that come with growing the thumbs; it is a relationship. For me, this complex experience is healing. Loss is universal, but healing comes in many forms. I hope to reflect one form of healing here, where the coping from loss is merged with daily life activity, producing further feelings to feel.

Read more text here

2017

Rise Above was a participatory installation created in response to the #MeToo movement. Screen-printed pink clouds suspended in the gallery space and adorning the table created an intimate environment where visitors could gather to share experiences of trauma and healing. The ethereal imagery of clouds served as a metaphor for collective resilience, while the soft pink palette transformed a space of vulnerability into one of strength and community support.