'No dream afternoon…' exhibition 'Definition and deep expression as mono Lolita' There are surely very many cases in which childhood experiences, tastes and so on are unconsciously reflected in who we are now. What is unconscious forms us before we know it and, even now that we are adults, bears the root of our tastes. Accumulation is precisely the material from which a human being is formed, and memories of childhood in particular act on our decisions when we choose, and influence them. It could also be expressed by something like this: the things we liked as children, such as hamburg steak or curry, we go on liking just the same as adults. As something at the root of hobbies and tastes: the attachment to cute mono that comes out naturally when selecting the anime, toys, knick-knacks and so on that one has seen since childhood, and inputting and outputting them. 'Sweets', spun out of the two keywords 'cute' and 'the memory of taste since childhood'. Defining the childlike-taste consciousness toward the mono around us as 'mono Lolita', and giving concrete form to deep consciousness and expressing it on the basis of the motif of sweets, is also what this exhibition intends. 'American TV and films of the 1970s and 80s' had an enormous influence on the artist. Among them, the artist was strongly drawn to a mixed-up worldview in which 'unreal things are depicted as a matter of course within the real', and the artist's taste, which sympathizes with the space between reality and unreality, ties together elements that seem opposed, the real and the unreal: 'cute' and 'cruelty'. Cute and yet cruel..., the child, as the symbolic presence of this, is depicted in the works. 'Cute' and 'cruelty'. The child within the adult. The adult within the child. Reality and unreality. To crystallize this from the event of memory, 'koto', into the material, 'mono', the artist used three-dimensional work and photography as means of expression. This is also a question posed to the ultimate binary opposition of life and death: beyond the moment when we, before the work, judge it cute, we also come face to face with a cruelty that suddenly flickers in and out of view, with our own desire seen reversed as in a mirror, and with the fear that the self who was supposed to be a child is heading in a straight line toward death. Yet there, as a certain Frenchman said that a work is like making one's own grave, one should also be able to sense a resolve that exists together with awe toward death, an attitude of facing it squarely, and something like hope. The strangeness of a giant chocolate object that comes to look like a wall, and also like a gravestone... Will the impression that presses upon us with a strange brightness, as if able to melt the resistance between 'cute' and 'cruelty', life and death, not leave a lingering resonance such as there has never been before?