It’s exciting to see how unskilled skaters make tricks [exciting] It’s easier to make tips than seeing skilled skaters.
Haroshi attributes his success to the lessons learned through the DIY spirit of skateboarding. He recalled trying to master his first Oli. At first, the idea of skipping a fire hydrant (another object that appears in his work) seemed impossible, but after many attempts, falls and injuries, he was satisfied with achieving his goals through pure willpower. His approach to art is marked by similar stubbornness. His outstandingness to the art world was hard. Haroshi’s intentions have never been the masses
Appeal: He said he would continue to do his job even if no one was paying attention. Skating taught Hash’s flexibility, but it also taught him not to stop having fun.
“In general, if people can continue to do things for ten years, [that] Make it real, don’t you think so? Even if you can continue skateboarding for ten years, get good.
When asked about art or skateboarding scenes in Tokyo, Haroshi has fewer things to say. The audience he found abroad was larger than at home. Prior to Stolspace’s October show, a solo exhibition was held in early 2013 at the famous Jonathan Levine Gallery in New York, along with the recent commissions from HUF and Nike.
“I think we lost Japan’s originality after World War II. That can’t help,” Haroshi seldom showed. “Our generation won’t wear t-shirts with Japanese letters because it’s clumsy, but we like t-shirts with English letters because even if we don’t know English, it looks cool. ‘Made’ is the brand of our generation. But I think we’re better off stopping paying attention to them, especially in Japan’s skating culture. Because if we keep focusing on Americans in America. [culture]we will never be original. ”
Although Haroshi resists the global influence of American pop culture, his work still has international appeal and goes beyond cultural identity, perhaps a product of commercial globalization that he dislikes. Whether grown up in the United States, Europe or Japan, most young and elderly people are proficient in the common dictionary of comics, comics and skateboard graphics. Haroshi’s dynamics and bright (and often stupid) sculptures operate on this collective consciousness. Skateboard deck
Haroshi and his friends were used as symbols of children as symbols of his generation of DIY culture, many of whom grew up becoming the most respected artists today, from Harmony Korine to Shepard Fairey.
“I don’t even know [the artists] I was a kid who designed the deck. Now I know those artists. I envy this feeling. People don’t know the name, but they know the artwork very well. I’ve always loved the old graphics I made before I started making things like Santa Cruz, Powell, Dog Town and Zorak are sick! “Pushead’s art is always cool and it’s really original. I want to be an artist who can satisfy fans for a long time,” he said.
But while Haroshi’s work symbolizes cultural moments, it is also a way to connect with his past. He found inspiration in the twelfth-century Japanese Buddhist sculptor Unkei, who used a mosaic-style wooden carving method that mimics Haroshi in his cross sculpture. Like Unkei, he embeds the crystal ball into the cave of the heart of his Buddha sculpture to represent the soul, Haroshi hides a broken metal skateboard section in each of his works as a spiritual blessing. The broken skateboards are nods of his cultural heritage, but they are also relic of skateboarding techniques that crush the board that eventually reborn in Haroshi’s work.
“It’s really exciting to see how unskilled skateboarders make skills [exciting] It’s easier to make tips than seeing skilled skaters. This is because there are no rules…I think the most creative thing is skateboarding. “He said. “Skateboards are just ‘boards’ and ‘wheels’, but it’s so great, is that a great thing?” ”**
This article first appeared in Hi-Fructose Issue 30, and the issue has been sold out. Subscribe to Hi-Fructose now and get our latest issue here as part of your subscription.
