"This is Richard Nonas,"

When I first heard his voice on the phone, I thought he was like a 30's guy. I was ignorant not to know anything about him as an artist, so I did assume that he was a young American fellow. It was until he showed up in the gallery last winter that I’d kept my assumption valid. "I'm Richard Nonas," he introduced himself with the same tone of the voice on the phone, and I could not believe my eyes. Someone who sounds so young could be like someone who looks as if he lived thousands of years like mountain hermits? Well, with his gray hair and beard and a cowboy-like outfit, he appeared like a Sharman--has sharp and deep eyes to see through everything, can know so much about life and still keeps his spirit young. Since the gallery had a two-man show, Richard Nonas and Gary Kuehn last year, Nonas has been around and it has been just uplifting to get to know him. He always bikes around the city with his own made bicycle. His hobby is canoeing with his own made canoe. He is incredibly competent about all the computer soft programs. His steps are aerial, his sprit is full of energy, and I never heard him say, “ I’m tired,” while I am always tired…. Impressive. So, we had been talking about me going to visit his studio and finally, last Monday, I knocked the door of his studio in Tribecca where he has been living for something like 5 decades. Once I was in, I completely forgot that I was in the very fancy and kitsch neighborhood or even in NYC. It was like a chaotic version of Natural American History museum, or a native Indian house (of my imagination.) The studio was a just big open space without any walls to divide. His artworks, mostly steel and wood sculptures, his own made canoes and machinery were taken up the entire floor and walls. Everything appeared in gradation of brown color like his outfit. Each work has a strong presence, yet over all, the room looked united. There was no distinction between his furniture, ornaments, artworks, or, actually all including himself. Perfection in chaos….“Wow…” Yes, just “wow.”
He in fact used to be an anthropologist and live with Native Indians in Mexico, Canada and elsewhere. One day, he realized that there was limitation to articulate what he’d learnt from them or what he had been studying through a word. That very realization led him to be where he is now, that is, an artist. Yet, he is free from categorization of his own art and superficiality of the art world. Still, he has been showing his work in Museums and galleries throughout the world.
His steel or wood sculptures are minimal and organic. “I am trying to re-make a place like the mountain where I was, a memory…feeling, could be a place or a situation,” he said, sitting a wood chair. “ I want to make my art the least craftsmanship manner,” he emphasized. He likes incooporating any spaces, whether they are small, or big, inside or outside, with his work. Each show has been apparently challenging, yet super exciting for him. “Do you talk to the materials like a stone, or a piece of wood?” I asked. “ I rather read. Read its intention if it wants to stay or wants to be used in a form of art.” While we conversed, he served espresso in a Finish wooden cup whose form was like Aladdin's lamp. (I am telling you everything in his studio was almost wooden made.) I felt as if I turned into brown.
After talking about art, the conversation shifted to things about life or I shall say about me… “ I’ve never met any Japanese who is so emotional and passionate, he said. “I see myself the least emotional,” I replied. His remark was quite surprising, as I have been trying not to show my emotion or passion. Only a few people who is close to me knows that I am quite emotional (yes, I truly am). “Well, obviously, my attempt failed.” Yet I could not help feeling happy about it. “It is a good failure then! I was myself,” I felt. Then, I just started thinking, like “ is it really so? Or is it just because he is like a Sharman who can see me in real? you know, a-man-who-can-read-a-stone!” Whichever the case is, I was quite content.
I stayed for 2 hours or so, but it was certainly a big trip. “You can knock my door anytime,” he greeted. Just before I left the studio, at the door, I asked,” why do you use red for your drawings? It seems that you only use red.” “I don’t know much about the colors, so to me the color means RED. That’s it.” I could not stop laughing, as I expected him to say something philosophical that can be typical for a commertial artist. I loved his remark and it, to me, is actually the most unforgettable and inspiring remark that he made somehow. Finally on my departure, we hugged tightly. "Ok, I’ve got to be ready to wake up from a daydreaming…," I said to myself. The sun was still shining, and too bright to my eyes. In a jetrugged state of mind, my steps were, rather, aerial like his and my spirit was full of gratefulness and happiness.