Part I: Heliocentrism in Art

Latest version: https://miyawrry.com/blog29638

DOI: 10.5281/zenodo.18529182 | PhilArchive: https://philarchive.org/rec/MIYTTO

1. The Yardstick of Value

Modern art theory places value on explanation through words. Experiments in art through thought have been actively carried out, often referred to as logocentrism (linguistic supremacy). In the current era, there is certainly an atmosphere of excluding non-verbal somatic experience as mere emotion. I believe this attitude leads to the breathlessness of humanity as a whole. This text is not a formal or precise art theory; rather, it records the atmosphere of the times while questioning the value of that yardstick.

Currently, art theory treats the existence of physical sensations beyond a certain level as outside its criteria. I wonder if the zero-point of the yardstick of value has shifted because of this. Here, I tentatively present the “depth of breath” based on somaticity as a value criterion instead of language. When art attempts to handle the depth of breath, current art theory emerges as something akin to a mistake in handling the imaginary axis in mathematics. I believe this will inevitably lead to a Copernican revolution―like heliocentrism―for human civilization as a whole.

2. Ambiguous Measurement

First, I believe that “when the past and present connect, the future is sometimes automatically included.” This is the idea that when you perceive the timeline as a straight line, by plotting two points, the third point is determined on its extension.

For example, traditional performing arts contain local somatic knowledge from 100 years ago. It is a “form” (kata) of breathing preserved by anonymous people who endured through repetition without being theorized. Tradition always holds the potential to break through the deadlocks of trends by being out of date. Simultaneous bodily movements cannot be replaced by words. Preserving information in such a volume that it cannot be described is one of the powers to withstand the pressure of time.

Language is merely a set of auxiliary lines; “form” can be called the shortest route left by our ancestors to lead the inner breath. I believe the sensation that “freedom exists because there is form” is the kind of thing that cannot be realized without physical mastery(*). I think current art theory is ambiguous in its measurement of this type of somatic knowledge.

Agriculture with a cycle of at least one year, the growth of children, the succession of generations, or the single breath of a stone―we can point to these existences with words, but they are not accompanied by a 1/1 scale sensation. An artist’s job is to pass the breath obtained there to the next person in some form, without dulling such organic elements.

* Rooted in about 30 years of practice in traditional Japanese performing arts, and influenced by Herrigel’s Zen in the Art of Archery and Uchida Tatsuru’s philosophy of embodied form and liberation.

3. The Boundary of Theory

When we allow words to precede breath, theory bloats and accelerates. Gradually, the lifespan of theory shortens, and as living beings, our breath cannot keep up, making us feel suffocated. At that time, the voice of the body should hold the greatest potential to resonate, even if it is rejected. Breath from the past―breath measured by scales other than the “generalized human”―leads to the practice called Kuyo (memorial rites) in a religious sense, and to a blessing from the past to the future.

Some may say, “No such thing exists.” Then, would that person agree to dispose of their own body and their ancestors’ graves as mere trash when they die? Most people would feel an indescribable discomfort here. This is not a matter of religious systems, but a problem of the boundaries that theory can handle. Painting was declared dead by modern art theory, but I believe theory was simply infringing upon its domain. Theory, theoretically, cannot kill human painting.

I explored microscopic breath and built a minimum-scale art ecosystem. Even if I expand my activities, I do not think material networking is important. That disturbs the breath and disturbs the project. I want to paint; organizing venues or discourse is not my top priority. Writing this itself already carries a sense of futility as a painter, a feeling close to processing taxes.

Essentially, the organicity of breath found there should lead to the voice of the future. If it is a practice following each bodily voice, it does not even need to be art. It is the kind of thing that might be called art after the fact. It is easy to give up and say such things do not exist, but the same type of problem will reappear across time. I believe this type of breathlessness is the kind of thing where dust accumulates in the spirit, and if one continues to deceive oneself too much, it leads to illness.

There should already be seeds of similar impulses all over the world. I am writing this as an example of a “barrier” (kekkai) to prevent the germination from being disturbed by the invasion of language. I believe this is the method to connect the breath of life that I have received.

Extending this perspective, I believe the excessive meaning of art will eventually thin out. The emphasis will shift from “what the painting is about” to “a material that disturbs or aligns the breath.” This means transforming the space-time of that room and holding back the body. The science of materials and techniques has advanced, but I believe art has been handling the same “depth of breath” since ancient times.

4. The Worst Theory

I am well aware of the unrefined nature (the Japanese concept of busui) of attempting to delineate the margins of theory with more theory. It is as paradoxical―and perhaps as foolish―as wearing a festival coat (happi) emblazoned with the word “Refined” (sui). However, in an era where the artistic environment is being suffocated by linguistic theory, I am more than willing to don this unrefined coat.

This stance resonates with Winston Churchill’s famous remark on democracy: “Democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.” My intention is this: “To verbalize breath is the worst form of action, except in cases where art is being eroded by language.”

Art visibilizes the voices that are often silenced by the majority-rule principle of democracy. There is a saying: “Authority fears art, yet needs art.” Because art shakes the very foundations of common sense, authority fears the loss of its support base. Yet, to ignore art is to fail to update one’s perception, leaving authority stranded in a bygone era.

In this sense, the space for appreciating art functions as a blind spot―a necessary void―within democracy. Consider the tea ceremony (Chado) developed during Japan’s warring states period, where even warriors laid down their swords before entering. This was, paradoxically, a practice deeply attuned to the subtleties of warfare. Similarly, confronting art is attuned to the subtleties of democracy. It functions as a backup for dissenting opinions drowned out by numbers. Art does not determine “correctness”; it preserves “difference.” Art fulfills its role not by producing for democracy, but by simply being its own unique breath.

5. The Limits of Technology

Meanwhile, AI-generated imagery will continue to evolve. However, the day will never come when the “aura of art’s uniqueness” created by human hands dwells within it. AI can imitate based on statistical biases, but it does not contain bodily friction. For example, extremely important human elements, such as “laughing together because a fart smells,” are stripped away. Comfort disconnected from somatic knowledge will, in the long term, put the breath of life at risk.

Even if the brain’s electrical signals were mechanically filled with pleasure, one would not gain the sensation of challenging reality. Even if interactive AI develops, its ultimate form would be the “Natural Intelligence” (NI) dwelling in the bodies of living organisms. I believe the future possibilities of art and the body will converge there. Art needs to include pain and uncomfortable friction, rather than being simple healing or fashion.

“Precisely because art lacks utility and cannot belong to social systems, it celebrates humanity and supports the foundations of those systems.” This itself is not a new claim; it should be the mainstream of traditional art. Hasn’t art consistently been a proud blue-collar labor that integrates mind and body since ancient times?

6. The Burden of Proof for Absence

In other words, there might be something that the excessive linguistic experiments of contemporary art continue to overlook. I believe the awareness and adjustment of the “contemporary” misalignment involve the future. I want it to be to the extent that people laugh at the thought of there being an era when it was necessary to write such things. It might be a type of content close to a modern slave liberation movement.

In mathematical terms, I think it is like representing the circular constant (Pi) as a rational number. That is to say, “Modern art theory might have mistaken the study of the imaginary axis for the real axis.” This does not mean it was entirely useless, but it should not be too early to immediately begin the task of a 100-year positional correction. This is because human breath may still be being eroded by “impolite and unconscious emotion disguised as theory.“

Contemporary art sometimes thrusts the filth of society directly at us. However, only when this is done while theory precedes it, there may be a danger similar to adults continuously touching the souls and bodies of children sexually. If art theory does not contain that aversion equally, the artist has been enduring 100 years of violence. This is a warning to unconscious authority that will resonate even to the boundaries of education and ethics. It is because humanity as a whole is living in an era of geocentrism.

No matter how much my individual misunderstanding and arrogance exist, isn’t the recalculation of Pi a more urgent task? If theory is not religion, there should be a responsibility to prove the absence of somatic knowledge. Probably, this proof will describe the point of divergence of theory. Ultimately, it leads to the proof of the absence of theory, and by art theory causing self-poisoning, it stops at the boundary. In the meantime, the breath of painting will become easier to revive through practitioners. The breath of creation does not change at all, but the breath of life will become easier.

7. The Inverse Universe

In other words, to speak on a grand scale, this is a proposal for human civilization crossing many domains with the depth of breath as an indicator. Here, Western theory may finally catch up with the wisdom of indigenous people that has been called “primitive,” the need for Kuyo (memorial rites) may arise, and we may be able to share a human-scale breath. From a heliocentric perspective, without such reconciliation, I believe the breath of Western theory will eventually die out. Isn’t this the way for both ancient wisdom and Western civilization to survive?

Unless the existence of somaticity beyond a certain level is theoretically denied, a domino effect of value standards will occur due to a Copernican revolution. If the standard of value shifted to the “depth of breath,” those who disregard the existence of somaticity beyond a certain level might be viewed like minors, regardless of their age. While they lose the qualification to speak of art theory or civilization, the “elder of breath” might gather respect.

Furthermore, if there were an artwork 100% fully inclined toward geocentric theory, it might lose the necessity to be incarnated as matter. If it is treated equivalently to the attitude that has discarded bodily sensations, it would be consistent for it to return to an archive exhibition of digital data only, as something emotional and impure that disturbs the harmony of breath. Currently, artworks are said to be non-utilitarian, but in the future, they may be recognized as practical items for breathing.

What I have handled here is not a discussion of which art theory is the subject. It is the “atmosphere of the times” where concepts are required in every situation. Symbolic representation detached from the living body robs the reality of life. At least for me, the constraint was such that I had no choice but to build a gallery through DIY while crying. Touching concepts forcedly felt like a type of poison that brings about the death of the soul. For a physical artist, the claim beyond the boundary of theory by a theorist without breath―that “theory is an absolute vacuum”―is no longer anything but the occult. I am writing this because I absolutely do not want to be misunderstood: this is never a negation of theory, but a matter of boundaries.

An architect is not a carpenter, and they do not deeply know the smell or texture of wood. It is not about good or bad; their roles are just different. The attitude of an architect talking about the smell of wood to a carpenter is very embarrassing. Even if they try to make a joint, from the perspective of the site, it is nothing but a hobby. I am merely saying that in the world of art. The world of theory may try to dismiss this discourse as “romanticism” or “emotionalism,” but “nevertheless, the breath continues.“

By looking back at the past without wavering from the body’s breath, the future will be opened. Awareness of somatic knowledge that precedes language by one step is, I believe, a possibility for art 100 years from now that only humans can achieve. The time of life is not just a straight line; it is a great possibility where 100 years ago and 100 years from now are being touched simultaneously “now.”

Part II: Breathing Declaration