Artnet : How Artist Chiharu Shiota Threads Memories Into Her Weightless Installations
The artist is currently the subject of two solo shows in Prague and Paris.
Chiharu Shiota. Photo: Sunhi Mang. Image courtesy of the artist.
The Berlin-based Japanese artist Chiharu Shiota (b. 1972) has charmed the art world with her monumental, intricate installations made of threads and found objects. In an interview, the artist discusses her latest institutional exhibitions—”Chiharu Shiota: The Soul Trembles” on view at the Grand Palais in Paris through March 19, 2025; and “Chiharu Shiota: The Unsettled Soul” on view through April 28, 2025 in Prague—life between two homes, and her wild guess as to exactly how many kilometers of thread she has used over the years to complete her intricate, spell-binding installations.
Installation view of “The Unsettled Soul.” Credit: Vojtěch Veškrna, Kunsthalle Praha.
You have had a very busy 2024, having opened several solo exhibitions across Europe and Asia, most recently “The Unsettled Soul” at Kunsthalle Praha in Prague and “The Soul Trembles” at the Grand Palais in Paris. What is it like bringing your work to different locations and spaces ?
Before my exhibitions in Prague and Paris, I held major shows in Japan, “I to Eye,” Nakanoshima Museum of Art, Osaka; and China, “Another Planet,” A4 Art Museum, Chengdu. These exhibitions require one to two years of planning. My team in Berlin is small, so it depends on the size of the space. I spend a lot of time preparing, visiting the venue multiple times to make sure everything is ready for the set-up.
For Prague, four people traveled from Berlin, working together with local assistants and technicians. My team has been with me for many years and have a lot of experience. At every set-up, I have to start from the beginning, because when I work with thread, it tangles, and I must redo it all over again. It is constantly adapting to the space and creates something new every time.
Installation view of “The Unsettled Soul.” Credit: Vojtěch Veškrna, Kunsthalle Praha.
“The Unsettled Soul” features four major installations, with some created especially for Kunsthalle Praha. One of the installations, Crossing Paths with Fate, which consists of boat frames, was said to be inspired by Vltava River in Prague. What is your impression of Prague? Who would’ve been the passengers of those boats?
The Vltava is a beautiful river, beginning in the mountains and flowing through the Czech Republic, passing through Prague before merging with the Elbe, which continues on to Hamburg and the North Sea. It carries not just people, but also cultural exchange. This was my first impression. When I was visiting the city, the river itself shines with bright light, while the city has its own moments of darkness. I also had the feeling that Kafka’s influence is felt by everyone in Prague—his story is deeply tied to the themes of light and darkness.
Installation view of “The Unsettled Soul.” Credit: Vojtěch Veškrna, Kunsthalle Praha.
You have been living in Berlin since 1999 and dividing your time between Germany and Japan. Have you ever had the feeling of displacement or disorientation? How are these sentiments translated in your practice?
When I moved to Berlin, there was construction everywhere. I noticed all these old windows on the street from the buildings, and I became interested in how these abandoned windows seemed to hold memories. I think of our clothes as like a second skin, while the buildings around us are a third skin. When you look through a window, it’s hard to tell if you’re looking out or in. It feels like being in between, and I really felt that after moving to Germany.
Now, after living in Berlin for 28 years—more than half my life—I feel like I have two home countries. I visit Japan every year, and when I’m in Germany, I miss Japan. When I’m in Japan, I miss Germany
The Key in the Hand, 2015, Japan Pavilion, 56th Venice Biennale. Photo by Sunhi Mang. Copyright VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn, 2023 and the artist.
What does the color red mean to you? While we see more of your signature cobweb-like installations made with red threads, there are also works made with black and white threads. How are these colors different?
Red represents blood, and blood carries the essence of life. Black reflects the universe and the mystery of the night sky, it is more abstract and infinite. White represents both beginnings and endings, the cycle of life and death. Together, these colors embody the full spectrum of existence, from birth to infinity, to the inevitable end.
Beyond Memory (2019), Gropius Bau, Berlin, Germany. Photo by Sunhi Mang. Copyright VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn, 2023 and the artist.
Objects like keys, shoes, dresses, chairs, and suitcases have played significant roles in your installations. Do you feel these objects are used to effect a theme of “presence in absence” in your practice? How so?
I cannot use new objects, because for me, each used or antique object carries its own memory. These objects aren’t just physical things; they hold memory, and the emotions. I can feel their history and the presence of the people they belonged to. It’s like they speak to me.
I’m not afraid of this connection because memory is vital—it’s what allows me to understand myself and explain who I am. Without memory, I would be lost, unable to connect with my own past or make sense of my present. Memory is what anchors us, giving meaning to our lives and to the things around us.
Installation view of “The Unsettled Soul.” Credit: Vojtěch Veškrna, Kunsthalle Praha.
In the myth of Ariadne’s thread, a problem is posed, and logic is utilized to explore every possible avenue to reach the end. Do you see a connection between this myth and your work?
I don’t think my work is connected to the story of Ariadne’s thread. To me, the thread has a personal meaning, and it’s a way to explore different ideas and feelings. If someone connects it to Ariadne’s thread, that’s fine—I’m happy when people find their own connection to my work.
Do you have an estimate of how many kilometers of threads you have used over the years?
I do not know the exact number—it really depends on the space. For some of my larger installations, it can be over 300 kilometers. I have never kept track of every single exhibition, but I can say I have participated in more than 300 exhibitions throughout my career.
Chiharu Shiota at her studio. Photo: Sunhi Mang. Courtesy of the artist.
Some of your smaller works are sold at art fairs and auctions (the artist’s auction record stands at $603,263 for the sale of Skin, a 2018 thread on canvas work, sold at Cuppar Auction in China, according to Artnet Price Database). How do you feel about people keeping your work in their personal spaces?
I mainly enjoy creating installations, but that’s only possible when a museum invites me. Otherwise, I work from my studio, focusing on my objects and drawings. Sometimes, I feel a special joy when visiting collectors. They take great care of my smaller works, and I appreciate seeing how these private spaces are curated. It’s fascinating how the collection often reflects the personal tastes and feelings of the collector themselves.
Can you name a couple of your recent non-installation works you liked?
I often come up with new ideas for objects or materials, but I’m not always satisfied with the outcome. At the moment, I’m working on a project with Yoko Tawada. She’s writing a novel for a Japanese newspaper, publishing a new page every day together with an image that I draw. We started this project in 2023, and it’s still ongoing. So far, I’ve created more than 400 drawings, and I recently exhibited them at the Nakanoshima Museum as part of my “I to Eye” exhibition.
For each page, I read the text and then draw something inspired by it. The process has been difficult, but also enjoyable. I often focus on drawing the scenery, as it’s hard for me to draw the characters’ emotions, especially since they aren’t my own. After creating 400 drawings, I was surprised by how much I had accomplished. It’s been a struggle at times, but I’m also very happy with the work.
Thread of Fate (2021). Diskurs 2021 -Ring 20.21, Festspielpark, Bayreuth. Photo by Sunhi Mang. Copyright VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn, 2023 and the artist.
You previously mentioned that you began working with other materials such as bronze, leather, wire, and glass so that you could “create something that would last after I was gone.” That idea emerged during your cancer treatment. How are these materials working out for you, compared to thread and other found objects?
I started working with bronze during my chemotherapy because I wanted to use a material that lasts forever. I also began using red leather. Now that I’m healthy again, I still keep experimenting with these materials, as well as glass and wire. I’m really focused on exploring what I can do with them.
What are your plans for 2025? What are the exhibitions or projects lined up?
Currently, I am in Mexico preparing two exhibitions. Afterward, I’ll be traveling to Amsterdam for the premiere of Idomeneo, for which I designed the stage design. I will also be traveling to Austria, China, and the United States for upcoming exhibitions.
Are there any projects that you have always wanted to do but never had a chance to pursue?
When I want to do something, I do it—I don’t like to wait around. I try not to focus too much on what I can’t do. Overall, I’m happy with the projects that I can do.
“The Unsettled Soul” is on view at Kunsthalle Praha, Klárov 5, 118 00, Praha 1, through April 28; “The Soul Trembles” is on view at the Grand Palais, Paris, France, through March 19 .
Written by Vivienne Chow for https://news.artnet.com/