Canceling all dogma, the idea of styles remain, or even of prevailing trends, discarding the hegemony of particular technical procedures, the current image reproduction draws upon the most diverse expedients: nothing is too new anymore, neither is anything discarded. That doesn’t mean that everything has the same value, but that the ways of imagining have become limitless.
In this context an ultra-naturalist painting may use an array of poetic and rhetoric resources, as a still life, a video, or photography just to name a few of the most commonly seen in the current visual horizon. In the case of Yuki’s work, the oil paintings referring to plants and flowers appear as an unpredictable move. The artist sets off from a classic school in oils, and circumspectly leans into an academic training received in Japan, but the technical fine arts skills become in this current work a means of exploring her own strategies of representation.
The painting starts by exhibiting an impeccable and clear drawing based on delicate lines which randomly but with elegance choose those obsessive pressures imposed by detail; Yuki’s work develops by the precision of impeccable lines and the fidelity of the meticulous botanical descriptions by which the lightness does not do away with the detail. But this world of fine texture and profiles, twitches with varied points of inflection which destabilize the place of beauty; lines, angles, and thorns are sharp, the movements twisted, screwed, and the direction they take, compositional and tense. A quiet convulsion shakes the exact organic harmony, and insinuates the affinities shared by the bromeliad’s or the lilies’ unrest, and the restlessness of the animal body. And perhaps reflect the anxieties which encourage or cast the human thought down. (Represented in its image, every live organism reveals the ambiguity of its last outline: the hybrid vocation of the living kingdom).
But movement of the figure is not enough to disturb the academy’s genre with strictly pictorial mediums, Yuki builds a crushing empty background which raises from the back and at the same time push forward the plants’ languid silhouettes. Just as the painting and drawing litigate the supremacy of the figure in an unresolved struggle, so are the background and subject engaged in this continuous tension which paralyzes the movement or speeds it up according to non-pictorial rhythms. The absolute white of the ground is not there as exclusion, rather it is built with succulent layers with the palette knife: the canvas is not therefore a quiet projection surface; it acts as material principle, informal, abstract if you wish. It does not represent the occasion of a pause of silence or counterpoint, but rather the silent moment of difference. Through this thick whiteness there’s a point of distance, a gesture of reflection by which the rendering of the painting itself is pondered
Ticio Escobar, 2007