Naoshima quickened my sensitivity to materials, to surfaces, to the things I come to contact.
Since her death, I’ve come to understand the importance my mother put on things.
I’m sure many people (especially art historians) may have had the feeling that a painting has haunted their life, but people tell me that my case may be exceptional.
In trying to pin down Hammond Castle, to wrestle it into some kind of scholarly order, I am finding that I don’t really care about authenticity, and clearly neither did Hammond.
Imagine a packed meeting room at the International Congress on Medieval Studies in Kalamazoo; so packed that people are sitting on the floors, filling up the aisles, and peering in from the doors.