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THRIFT STORE HAIKU, 1999 - 2000
Various found objects and mixed media assemblages paired with accompanying haiku poetry by Lawson Inada, Amy Uyematsu and Russell Leong, various sizes, $1,500. each:
THE ASIAN MIND (banana on head),1999
Assemblage with haiku poetry by Russell Leong, 9.5 x 6.5 x 11 inches
What is the sound
of one banana peeling?
Mindless thinking.
MY MARILYN (kimono boy/soup cans), 2000
Assemblage with haiku poetry by Russell Leong, 25 x 12 x 12 inches
My mother wuz
Warhol's Marilyn
all souped up.
MODEL MINORITY (glasses on banana), 2000
Assemblage with haiku poetry by Lawson Inada, 13 x 6 x 14 inches
Mama always said:
Even if it doesn't fit,
you can bear it.
THE QUAKER, 1999
Assemblage with haiku poetry by Amy Uyematsu, 19.5 x 10 x 3.5 inches
Go for broke G.I.
Finds his Dorothy in Kansas
blonde still out of reach.
Shimomura, like many visual artists, is a collector of objects. The Thrift Store Haiku series is a result of such collecting and the artist writes, "My life can practically be chronicled by what I have collected. When I was a child, I collected bottle caps, bubble gum cards and comic books. Through junior high school I collected cowboy and baseball memorabilia, postage stamps and magazine premiums. By the time I was in high school it was James Dean collectibles and car magazines. In college I collected rock and roll records and old fishing lures from the '50s and in the mid-to late-'60s it was post-bop jazz record albums and non-fiction books on outdoor survival stories. In graduate art school, heavily influenced by the Funk Art ceramics movement and the advent of Pop Art, I began collecting old children's toys, penny arcade machines and advertising signs. By the time I arrived in Kansas, I became a serious collector of antique comic character tin wind-up toys, Big Little Books, old radio and cereal premiums, and 1930s Walt Disney books. A cathartic divorce in 1975 led me to swear that I would never collect anything again, but by the early 1980s I found myself beginning to accumulate Art Deco pitchers, old radios, chrome sailboats and classic Fiestaware. More recently, thanks to eBay (online auction) and a refocus on collecting, my house is filled with a variety of art, assorted salesman samples and a world class collection of chalkware figurines. Perhaps more revealing is that most extensive collections are of salt and pepper shakers with cliched depictions of 'Orientals,' Fu Manchu style gauze masks from the 40s and 50s, racist depictions of buck-toothed, slant-eyed Japanese on WW II postcards, pin back buttons, books, ceramic ware, magazines, posters and WW II internment camp memorabilia. Furthermore, I have amassed a 15 year collection of envelopes with misspellings of my last name, photos of Asian men for whom I have been mistaken, photographs of famous artists with slanted eyes drawn on, and music by pubescent Japanese girl pop singers.
In my eyes, many of these collectibles have become symbols imbued with political and sociological meaning, representing the best and worst of European, Asian and Asian American culture. It is not surprising that so many of these objects have become still life subjects for my paintings, components for installations, and stage props for my performance pieces. Add to this mix three generations of photo albums, writings, scrap books and objects of nostalgia left to me by both my grandparents and parents and once again, the line between life and art becomes blurred. I refer to the pieces in the exhibition as Thrift Store Haiku, primarily because all of the objects have been found at Goodwill, Salvation Army, Disabled American Veterans or Saint Vincent de Paul thrift stores. In addition, haiku poetry is meant to intensify a moment so that the reader may see it more clearly than before. To achieve this result in writing is to relate two or more images in an unusual way, thereby creating a new and interesting relationship possibly suggesting multiple meanings or associations.
I have attempted to couple at least two objects that connote fairly obvious meaning. For example, painting Donald Duck as an American icon or white bread as an Anglo symbol and then pairing it with additional elements that may contradict or seem incongruous with the pairing. Perhaps not all viewers will make similar associations to the objects. Some may create meanings according to their own ways of perceiving the world. In constructing these compositions, I have intentionally refrained from making major alterations to the objects, allowing the works to rely on the subtleties of their relationships and non-relationships. In haiku, this is called 'sono mama' which translates to 'as it is' sans flourishes or emotionalism. Perhaps what they lack in aesthetic inventiveness is overshadowed by their potential to stimulate in me issues that have been - and continue to be - important."
ACCOMPANYING HAIKU BY FOUR POETS
"During the initial days of the birth of the Thrift Store Haiku series, I vacillated between the idea of writing 3-line verses to accompany the pieces that I was undertaking, or simply settling for the knowledge that there appeared to exist a clear relationship between the 3-line format of haiku and the 'three found object' format that I seemed to be following. Fortuitously, California poet Russell Leong was teaching a two-week seminar at the University of Kansas. I invited him over to see these pieces. Within minutes, I was struck by how attuned Russell was to the visual metaphors and symbols contained in each piece. It was reaffirming, to say the least, that I was using a language that was at minimum, decodable to another American of Asian heritage. After describing to Russell how the haiku format provided a structural guide for the making of these pieces, and relating to him my temptation to write accompanying haiku, Russell was quick to offer his assistance. He suggested that it might be even more interesting to solicit haiku responses from three other Asian American poets, as well.
Within two weeks of returning to California, Russell emailed me with the news that the three other poets, representing his first three choices, all had agreed to participate in this project. The results are posted next to each piece in the exhibition. I wish to express my gratitude to all four poets: Alan Lau, Lawson Inada, Amy Uyematsu and, especially, Russell Leong. Their insight, humor and poignancy have brought to the work a sense of completion and depth that can only found in successful collaborations."
BIOGRAPHIES OF HAIKU POETS WHO COLLABORATED WITH SHIMOMURA:
Lawson Inada is a major American poet and the author of many books of poetry, including After the War (1973), and Legends from Camp. His poetry is inscribed in stone along the Willamette River and was the inspiration for an orchestral composition by noted American composer Andrew Hill. He serves as a multicultural consultant for schools and agencies throughout the U.S. and has taught at Southern Oregon State College since 1966. Inada was the co-editor of the seminal Asian American anthologies, Aiiieeeee! and The Big Aiiieeeee! which helped to define Asian American writing from the 1960s through the 80s. According to Leslie Marmon Silko, he is 'a poet musician in the tradition of Walt Whitman and James A. Wright.'
Russell Leong is a poet, fiction writer, filmmaker and editor. His book of poetry, The Country of Dreams and Dust (University of New Mexico, dist.) received a PEN Josephine Miles Literature Award. His book of short stories, Phoenix Eyes and Other Stories, will be published by University of Washington Press (Seattle, 2000). Leong edits the Amerasian Journal and is head of UCLA's Asian American Studies Center Press.
Amy Uyematsu is a sansei poet and teacher from Los Angeles. She has published two books of poetry: 30 Miles for J-Town (Story Line Press, 1992) and Nights of Fire, Nights of Rain (Story Line, 1998). A 1992 Nicholas Roerich Prizewinner, Uyematsu also co-edited Roots: An Asian American Reader (UCLA, Asian American Studies Center, 1971).
  
ONKO CHI SHIN, 2000 (details above)
Acrylic on canvas and mixed media, 78 x 36 x 27 inches
$9,000.
Shimomura translates the words "onko chi shin" to mean "a reference to the importance of history and the lessons that must be remembered in the future." He explains, "A baby, trapped within a white picket fenced yard, totes on his back the leg of a guard tower, similar to one that might have surrounded Minidoka concentration camp in Idaho, 1943."
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