GALLERY MoMo Ryogoku is pleased to present "Listening to the Voices of Sediment", a solo exhibition by Kumiko Muroi, running from May 16 to June 13, 2026.
Throughout her career, Muroi has confronted fundamental themes of life and death, as well as the threshold between "Higan" (the other shore) and "Shigan" (this shore), rooted in personal experiences of loss, disaster, and illness. Her time living in the mountainous regions of Tohoku sparked a profound interest in the mountain worship of Yamagata. Subsequent physical journeys to sacred sites across Japan—including the Oshira-sama traditions of Tono, the spiritual grounds of Osorezan, and the Utaki of Okinawa—have led her to an even deeper and more resonant perspective on mortality.
Muroi’s work focuses on the "hazama" (in-between) opposite elements: light and darkness, memory and oblivion, joy and emptiness, and the boundary between "this side and the other side." Using a palette primarily of purples and grays with fluid, sweeping brushstrokes, she has established a unique style that defies simple classification as either figurative or abstract. Her canvases manifest contradictions and give form to the formless.
The exhibition title’s keyword, "Ori" (Sediment), refers to the matter that settles at the bottom of water, or the accumulation of forgotten emotions and souls. For Muroi, the annual rings of ancient trees, the layered cloths of Oshira-sama deities, and the layers of paint on her canvas are all equally "sediments of time."
In a departure from her previous darker tones, this exhibition features large-scale oil paintings with vibrant colors reminiscent of the open sky. Alongside these, the show will include monotypes and drawings—latest works born from a dialogue with figurative forms and settled memories—offering a glimpse into a new stage of Muroi’s artistic expression.
As Muroi states, she seeks to "reflect the boundary itself, rather than choosing between figuration and abstraction." We invite you to experience the "voice of sediment" that rises from the interstices of her work, awakening a sense of the "other side" that we so often lose sight of in our daily lives.
Artist Biography
Kumiko Muroi (b. 1975) completed her MFA at Tokyo Zokei University in 2009. She taught at Tohoku University of Art and Design from 2015 to 2023 before returning her base of operations to Tokyo in 2025.
Her accolades began early in her career; she received the Encouragement Award at the Gunma Youth Biennale in 2005 while still an undergraduate, followed by selection for the VOCA Exhibition in 2006. In 2012, at the 31st Sompo Japan Nipponkoa Art Museum Foundation Selection Exhibition, she was highly praised by jurors as a "pioneer among young abstract painters" and received the Encouragement Award.
In 2013, she participated in an artist-in-residence program hosted by the PROSPER Foundation in Georgia. Her work has been featured in notable exhibitions such as the "Yairo no Mori Art Exhibition" at the Ikeda Memorial Museum of Art and the Yamagata Biennale 2020.
Artist Statement
What lies between the other shore (Higan) and this shore (Shigan)?
I travel. To the mountain faiths of Yamagata; to the Oshira-sama of Tono in Iwate; to Osorezan in Aomori; to the sacred realms of Izumo in Shimane; to the Utaki of Okinawa; and to the Sokushinbutsu (self-mummified Buddhas). I visit these sites of faith to immerse myself in the time and atmosphere that breathe there. These journeys are neither tourism nor academic research; they are an act of layering my own senses upon the accumulation of memory known as folklore.
In the folk beliefs of this country, there is a fundamental will to treat the boundary between the dead and the otherworld with great care. In mountain worship, exemplified by the Three Mountains of Dewa, the mountains themselves are seen as dwellings for the souls of the departed. Practitioners (ascetics) have long experienced the threshold between life and death through the physical act of walking steep, rugged paths. The Oshira-sama of Tono are enshrined in layers of cloth—a form that is the very embodiment of memory piling up in strata. The Itako of Osorezan call the dead back to this shore through the medium of words. In the sacred lands of Izumo, myriad deities gather across time and space. In the Utaki of Okinawa, ancestral spirits reside within the forests, where women known as Noro or Yuta mediate between the spiritual world and the present. I have also gone to meet the Sokushinbutsu several times. Their bodies, remaining on this shore while consciously embracing death, are the crystallization of the boundary between the two shores, rendered into flesh. Every faith arises from a sense of keeping the departed close to our daily lives rather than distancing them.
When I walked through Osorezan in Aomori, the searing heat of the ground and the incredibly clear blue sky spreading overhead rushed toward me at once. It felt as if my own body stood as a single boundary between hell and heaven. When stepping into places where few people visit, one is sometimes enveloped in a sensation of something that had been submerged at the bottom of the water gently floating to the surface. "Ori" (Sediment) refers to that which settles at the bottom, or the stagnation itself. It is the invisible accumulation hidden in the depths of clear water—sometimes a deposit of forgotten memories, emotions, or souls. The "voice" emitted from there is an unspeakable whisper, an afterglow of the past, a fundamental resonance of existence.
I have also go around visiting giant trees. Trees that carve centuries, sometimes over a millennium, into their trunks—connecting to the depths of the earth with their roots and stretching toward the heavens with their branches. Standing before them, the smallness of my own body and the sensation of certainly standing on "this shore" rush over me simultaneously. The annual rings of a giant tree, the layered cloths of Oshira-sama, the layers of paint—all are "sediment." Time settles, atmosphere accumulates, and eventually, they take the shape of a single voice.
And now, I live in Ome. Okuchi-no-Magami, enshrined at Musashi Mitake Shrine—this local faith that reveres the wolf as a divine messenger—resonates quietly with the memories of my distant travels. Within my daily life, the "other shore" is already woven in.
I used to practice calligraphy and archery. In a single stroke of the brush, there is a moment when the body moves before thought. The same is true of the instant an arrow is released in archery—it is only when you stop "aiming" that you finally hit the target. Standing before a canvas, I recall that sensation. Hands move, paint layers, disappears, and remains. Just as Sesshu allowed the spiritual aura of the mountains to reside within the yohaku (blank space), I too attempt to place the "other side" within the unpainted areas. Layers of time and physicality pile up on the surface, eventually forming a certain presence.
Countless stars scattered across the night sky hold no meaning in themselves. Yet, since ancient times, humans have drawn lines between points, finding myths and forms of prayer. Constellations are the fundamental human impulse to visualize the invisible. My act of facing the canvas is similar—drawing faint lines between countless traces. The screen, swaying between color and matter, is neither figurative nor abstract, but seeks to reflect the boundary itself. The other shore is always within the margins of this shore. And we are always standing on this shore, drawing lines toward the invisible.
Kumiko Muroi, 2026
GALLERY MoMo Ryogokuでは、2026年5月16日（土）から6月13日（土）まで、室井公美子による個展「澱（おり）の聲（こえ）を聴く」を開催いたします。
室井はこれまで、事故や災害、近親者の死といった個人的な体験から、「生と死」あるいは「彼岸と此岸」という根源的なテーマに向き合ってきました。特に東北の山間部での生活を通じ山形の山岳信仰に興味を持ち、その後、遠野のおしらさま、恐山、沖縄の御嶽といった各地の信仰の場を巡る身体的な経験は、彼女の死生観をより深遠なものへと導きました。
光と闇、記憶と忘却、幸福と空虚、そして「向こう側とこちら側」。室井はこうした相反する要素の“狭間（はざま）”を制作の主題としています。紫や灰色を基調とした、流れるような筆触を持つ背景に、具象とも抽象ともつかない独自の表現様式を確立し、矛盾と形のないものを表出するような画面を作り出しています。
本展のタイトルにある「澱（おり）」とは、水底に沈殿するもの、あるいは忘れ去られた感情や魂の堆積を指しています。室井にとって、巨木の年輪やおしらさまに重ねられた布、そしてキャンバスに塗り重ねられる絵具の層は、すべて等しく「時間が沈殿したもの」です。
本展では、これまでの紫や暗い色彩から鮮やかな空を思わせる油彩の大作を展示します。また、モノタイプによる版画、ドローイングまで、具象や沈殿した記憶と対話することで生まれた最新作も並び室井の新たな表現を垣間見ることができるでしょう。
室井が『具象でも抽象でもなく、その境界そのものを映し出そう』としていると言うように、画面から立ち上がる表現の狭間にある「澱の聲」。私たちが日々の生活の中で見失いかけている「向こう側」の気配を呼び覚ます作品群を、ぜひご高覧ください。
アーティストコメント
彼岸と此岸のあいだに、何があるのだろう。
私は旅をする。山形の山岳信仰、岩手・遠野のおしらさま、青森・恐山、島根・出雲の神域、沖縄の御嶽、そして即身仏——各地の信仰の場を訪ね、そこに息づく時間と気配に身をひたす。それらは観光でも学術調査でもなく、民俗という名の記憶の堆積に、自分の感覚を重ねる行為だ。
この国の民俗信仰には、死者や異界との境界を丁寧に扱おうとする意志が通底している。出羽三山に代表される山岳信仰では、山そのものが死者の魂の宿る場とされ、修験者たちは険しい道を歩くことで生と死のあわいを身体で経験してきた。遠野のおしらさまは布を重ねて祀られ、その姿は記憶が層をなして積み上がる様そのものだ。恐山のイタコは、言葉を介して死者を此岸へと呼び戻す。出雲の神域では、八百万の神々が時間と空間を超えて集う。沖縄の御嶽では祖先の霊が森のなかに宿り、ノロやユタと呼ばれる女性たちが霊的な世界と現世を媒介する。即身仏にも幾度か会いに行った。死を意識しながら此岸に留まり続けるその身体は、彼岸と此岸の境界が肉となって結晶したものだ。どの信仰も、死者を遠ざけるのではなく、生活のすぐそばに留め置こうとする感覚から生まれている。
青森・恐山を歩いたとき、灼熱の地面と頭上に広がる信じられないほど澄んだ青空が、同時に押し寄せてきた。地獄と天のあわいに、自分の身体がひとつの境界として立っている感覚だった。人があまり訪れなくなった場所に足を踏み入れるとき、水底に沈んでいたものがふわりと浮かび上がるような感覚に包まれることがある。「澱」とは、水底に沈殿するもの、あるいは澱みそのものを指す。澄んだ水の奥にひそむ目には見えない蓄積であり、ときに忘れ去られた記憶や感情、魂の堆積でもある。そこから発せられる「聲」とは、言葉にならない囁き、過去の余韻、存在の根源的な響きだ。
巨木を訪ね歩いたこともある。数百年、ときに千年を超える時間を幹に刻みながら、根で大地の底と繋がり、梢で天へと伸びる木々。その前に立つと、自分の身体の小ささと、それでも確かに此岸に立っているという感覚が、同時に押し寄せてくる。巨木の年輪も、おしらさまに重ねられた布も、絵具の層も——すべては澱である。時間が沈殿し、気配が堆積し、やがてひとつの声をかたちづくる。
そして今、私は青梅に暮らす。御嶽神社に祀られる大口真神——オオカミを神の使いとして崇めるこの地固有の信仰は、遠い旅先の記憶と静かに響き合う。日々の生活のなかに、彼岸はすでに織り込まれている。
私はかつて書道と弓道をしていた。書の一筆には、思考よりも先に身体が動く瞬間がある。弓道の矢が放たれる刹那も同じだ——狙うのをやめたとき、はじめて的に届く。キャンバスの前に立つとき、私はその感覚を思い出す。手が動き、絵具が重なり、消え、残る。雪舟が余白に山の霊気を宿らせたように、私もまた描かれていない部分に「向こう側」を置こうとしている。画面には時間と身体の層が積み重なり、やがてひとつの気配をかたちづくる。
夜空に散らばる無数の星は、それ自体では意味を持たない。しかし人は古来、点と点のあいだに線を引き、神話や祈りの形を見出してきた。星座とは、見えないものを可視化しようとする人間の根源的な衝動だ。私がキャンバスに向かう行為も、それに似ている——無数の痕跡のあいだに、かすかな線を引くこと。色彩と物質のあわいに揺れる画面は、具象でも抽象でもなく、その境界そのものを映し出そうとする。彼岸はいつも、此岸の余白のなかにある。そして私たちはいつも、見えないものに線を引きながら、此岸に立っている。
2026年 室井公美子
