
all photos by kaori sohma copyright spoon & tamago | click to enlarge
Armed with just a tiny steel dip pen, Japanese artist Cyoko Tamai tears through paper, pulling up fibers to create three-dimensional fuzzed relief sculptures from just ink and paper. When you think about it – and it’s evident that Tamai has done plenty of that – a painting, on a microscopic scale, is just multitudes of fibers stained with ink. And that’s how Tamai approaches her canvas: in pursuit of “the finest lines that are the smallest unit of painting.”
And it’s not just any type of paper that Tamai is deconstructing. “This is the world’s thinnest handmade paper,” she told us recently, holding up a delicate piece of washi paper that looked like it was about to burn off like morning fog. We were standing in her makeshift studio at the Japan Society in Manhattan where Tamai is in the midst of a summer residency program. The paper was the work of another artist, a Japanese Living National Treasure, actually, named Sazio Hamada. “I consider my work a collaboration between myself and Hamada-san,” she told us.




































