Kyoto City University of Arts

　　Since 1998 Nakahashi Katsushige's ZERO Project has been repeated over and over. Nakahashi takes micro-photographs of a 1/32 scale plastic model of a Zero fighter plane in sections measuring 2 x 3 millimeters square, enlarging the surface scale of the model until it matches that of the life-size original. The resulting photographs number between fifteen- and twenty-five thousand, and are printed onto standard snapshot-size photo paper. These thousands of photos are then fitted together, with the resulting in a true-sized reproduction of an actual Zero fighter aircraft. The work is displayed in the gallery in a flattened state, and at the end of the exhibition period, it is burned to ashes. In this way, the ZERO has been constructed and destroyed repeatedly.

　　Nakahashi's ZERO Project is also a journey. Starting in Osaka, it moved to Brisbane, Australia, then back to Nishinomiya in Japan. Afterwards, it returned to Australia, to Darwin and then to Cowra. Before and after "9/11," when mass media headlines labeled the suicide attack on the World Trade Center "Kamikaze Attack!", ZERO was included in the "Superflat" exhibition curated by Murakami Takashi, with which it toured three cities of the West Coast of the United States. From Japan, to Australia, to the US, Nakahashi's ZERO Project presents the opportunity to reconsider "Memories of War," memories of "wars past," as well as "wars present."

　　I am reminded of Sawaragi Noi's statements when he wrote, "So many people say they were shocked by that image [9/11], but why couldn't they have any shock from the image of the mushroom clouds over Hiroshima and Nagasaki, or the image of kamikaze pilots destroying their planes and themselves in suicide missions against the backdrop of a blue sky over the Pacific? There is something sublime about these images that is not present in the imagery of 9/11. Why - how could such a thing ever have come to pass?"⁽¹⁾

　　The memories of war are almost lost here in Japan. It is a long time since it was said that the post-war period was over. In fact, with the Korean Peninsula still divided into North and South, with Okinawa still occupied by American military bases, and with the issue of how to handle the surviving "comfort women" forced into prostitution by the Japanese military, it seems "The War" is not yet over. Furthermore, there are individuals in many parts of the world today who still live with war as an aspect of their daily lives.

　　The question of "memories of war" and the way these memories have been lost here in Japan is a significant one for Nakahashi, who has said, "I have never directly experienced war, and so if the topic is raised, the only means I have to relate are through my memories of playing with plastic Zero fighter plane models as a child. For me, "war" as a phenomenon has no direct reality other than this. This is one reason why I selected this particular motif for my art." ⁽²⁾ As Sawaragi Noi has noted, for Nakahashi and others born in the 1950s during the post-war period, the only "war" in existence was that present in the subculture of "comic books, cartoons, movie special effects, and plastic models." The real experience of war was replaced with the consumption of these goods.

　　Let us take the example of plastic models of Zero fighter planes to examine this phenomenon more closely. At the time of the outbreak of World War II, the Zero was far superior to the Curtiss P40 or Grumman F4F Wildcat in terms of speed and turning capacity. But the realities of "war" were subverted when represented in the form of the Zero fighter plane, so "cool" in the eyes of a small boy. The admiration for the Zero was secretly transformed into the admiration for Japanese advanced technology and Japan itself in the hearts of youngsters such as Nakahashi, who bought and built plastic models of these same Zero planes. In this way, the reproduction of a nationalistic atmosphere in post-war Japan went unnoticed.

　　Nakahashi, however, is very conscious that this was going on. Indeed, it was the very incentive for his idea to reconstruct a Zero with enlarged photographs taken of a plastic model. During some exhibitions of the resulting ZERO Projects, Nakahashi would imitate the sound of the plane engine and machine gun fire, in the manner of a child at play. As paradoxical as it sounds, it is this very lack of reality that constitutes the only reality of "war" that Nakahashi has ever known.

１.

　　However, a fundamental question still needs to be considered regarding the significance of reconstructing a Zero plane through the use of a plastic toy model, and constructing a reproduction built entirely of enlarged photographs of the model. The result is not a copy of an original, Zero, but of a pint-size plastic toy version. So what we see exhibited in front of us is nothing more than a copy of a copy, and we are left with the impression that the "original" on which the copies are based may in fact never have existed in the first place.

　　This reflects the reality of our situation. Many of us who were born and live in "Post-War Japan" avert our eyes from "war", and are satisfied never to have to confront it. Nakahashi's ZERO is clearly identifiable as a copy of a copy, an imitation of an imitation. Yet it is also a scathing rebuke of our ignorance of anything else but our own daily peaceful existence. Images of the US invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq affect us no differently than those derived from such Disney films as "Pearl Harbor," with Nakahashi's ZERO Project asking us - how we could we let such a thing come to pass? Yet the fact remains that so many people view Nakahashi's ZERO without experiencing the "dark side" implicitly present in the work, due to the more conspicuously present "bright side." For us who do experience both sides, this fact makes the "dark side" even darker still.

　　If we acknowledge the fact that Nakahashi's ZERO does indeed have a paradoxical "bright side," one of the sources of this impression must lie in the fact that Nakahashi's ZERO does not have "structure" per se. Rather than being built on a metal structure, such as the duralumin frame of an actual Zero fighter plane, Nakahasha creates his ZERO entirely out of photographs - it is formed entirely by "surface". Related to this fact is a statement from Nakahashi himself, who notes, "Of course the title ' 　 (ZERO)' refers to the name of the aircraft, but it also refers to the numerical value of 'zero,' completely devoid of content. Furthermore, if you turn the number 0 is on its side, it gives the impression of something round that has been squashed flat. In this way, the name refers to the work's existence as surface only… In creating the work, rather than starting by creating a support structure, I start by creating the actual surface. In fact, the surface supplies its own structure, little by little, as the work is formed…Whether the result made the plane look like it was inflated, or if it look like it had collapsed, it was all the same to me." ⁽³⁾

　　The limp and pliable ZERO is made of photographs fitted together and fixed in place by cellophane tape, but where the camera accidentally skipped a section, a blank space results, creating in a hole in the plane surface. Since there is no support structure, the work sags and bends in some places, and lays flat in others. Nakahashi makes it overtly clear that his ZERO is nothing more than the superficial layer of a counterfeit object, a shed skin. Indeed, it is a ZERO truly "carrying numerical value of 'zero,' completely devoid of content." When we view this object, we are trapped into an illusionary view of sorts into our own interior selves, forcing us to realization that we, too, are devoid of content.

　　In Murakami Takashi's "Superflat" exhibition, Nakahashi's ZERO greeted the viewers at the very entrance of the exhibition space. According to Murakami, this was done in order to symbolize "the impotence of the defeated nation Japan."⁽⁴⁾ Related to this is the long-ignored question of the Emperor's war responsibility, and in spite of the fact that Showa period (1925-1989) is divided into "pre-war" and "post-war" eras by the existence of "The War," a prevailing attitude that "there was no war" has spread like a disease among Japanese baby-boomers. This is demonstrated in the lyrics of "The Life of an Irresponsible Man" ("Musekinin ichidai otoko"), a song made popular in the post-war reconstruction period by Ueki Hitoshi, who sang, "Irresponsiblity is the way of the world. Taking great pains gets you nowhere!" ⁽⁵⁾ Such a phenomenon as so-called "systematic irresponsibility" by Maruyama Masao is still in place today, making the years lying between Japan's "pre-war" and "post-war" eras nothing more than a superficial interruption. It is in these things that we see the elimination of the significance of Japan's wartime defeat - what Murakami labeled "the impotence of the defeated nation Japan."

　　Nakahashi has spoken as follows about his motivation for planning the ZERO Project: "I originally planned to make art works related to the theme of 'the Showa period.' But as a direct effect of the 'The War,' the Showa period has been split into two halves, the pre-war and post-war eras. This is how I came to a consideration of 'The War'. The ZERO Project is the first work in this series." ⁽⁶⁾ In 2000, Nakahashi held a solo exhibition at the Nishinomiya Municipal Otani Memorial Art Museum featuring a ZERO along with a life-sized portrait bronze statue of the Showa emperor encased in a giant silicone chrysanthemum. For 2001, he held an exhibition in galleries in Yonago and Osaka featuring this bronze Showa emperor portrait covered in gilding, but instead of its silicone chrysanthemum encasement, it was paired with an identical sculpted image without gilding. Nakahashi entitled both two exhibitions "Your Majesty's Reign," a title derived from the Japanese expression "Kimigayo," which is the national anthem of Japan.⁽⁷⁾ Nakahashi's title plays tricks with this language - the "you" referred to in "Your Majesty's Reign" is not only the Showa emperor, but also "you" the viewer - his reign was your reign. In this way, the questions raised in "Your Majesty's Reign" and in the ZERO Project are not limited to "The War," but are questions that apply to the entire Showa period, including the pre-war and post-war eras.

２.

　　Another thing: what are the implications of the fact that Nakahashi, who identifies himself as a sculptor, creates his ZERO using photographic methods? Are not the requisite factors of "volume" and "depth" so important in traditional sculpture decidedly absent in these photographic, surface-only creations?

　　When asked to consider these points, it becomes clear that Nakahashi's ideas about "sculpture" are more ambivalent. According to him, "sculpture" is nothing less than "the art of expressing volume." In the mid-80s, under the theme of "things Japanese," he attempted to create a sculptural mold of a Japanese pine right down to its pine needles. In this he was unsuccessful, and instead, he did an about-face by creating the pine needles with bundles of copper wire, which he attached to twigs of iron wire, welded in turn to iron branches.⁽⁸⁾ Though the result was successful, the need to utilize such a technique rather than directly casting the tree was for Nakahashi a denial of "sculpture" itself, and he was deeply disappointed with his "failure." In spite of this experience and/or because of it, Nakahashi began to utilize non-traditional sculptural methods in his pursuit of "sculpture."

　　An example of this is seen even in the paired portrait sculptures of the Showa emperor, "Your Majesty's Reign." Nakahashi used traditional bronze sculpting techniques in creating the two sculptures, and both halves of the paired portraits emerged from an identical mold. Yet he applied gold leaf to just one of the images, and this decision to process the surfaces of the two images differently resulted in a completely different appearances for the otherwise identical objects. In this way, rather than considering "volume" and "depth" (the requisite qualities of traditional sculpture), the viewer is forced to consider only "surface." In this sense, "Your Majesty's Reign" can be thought of as a work of sculpture that simultaneously affirms and denies its identifying sculptural qualities.

　　The application of color or gilding to bronze can be seen in other Nakahashi's works dating from the mid-80s, such as "Dog Nights." ⁽⁹⁾ But his use of photographs dates only to the mid-1990s. His first work of the sort that resembles a photographic jigsaw puzzle was entitled "On 5th April." ⁽¹⁰⁾ For this piece, Nakahashi spread a blue vinyl sheet under a blossoming cherry tree in order to catch the flower petals as they fluttered to the ground over the course of that particular day. From sunrise to sunset, moving from east to west, he photographed the entire surface of the vinyl sheet over a period of thirteen hours. The developed photographs were brought to an art museum, where Nakahashi publicly joined the photographs together with cellophane tape, a process that took over ten days, before displaying the completed work.

　　Afterwards, Nakahashi explained that "the camera moved up and down, resulting in varying sizes, some larger, some smaller." This statement refers to the fact that during the long photographic process, he could not always hold the camera at a fixed height from the ground, which made uniformity in the photographic images impossible. Also, with so many photographs involved, some blurriness, as well as some flawed shots, is unavoidable. As a result, when the photographs are fitted together, there are places where the images do not perfectly match up. Furthermore, the varying camera height at the time of the photography are reflected in a finished work that is not perfectly flat, but instead bulges in some places and sags in others.

　　The same effect is seen in other works by Nakahashi that are similar to "On 5th April." These include "On 19th February," in which he photographed cherry blossom petals falling to the ground in Okinawa on the anniversary of the United States marines' WWII landing on Iwojima, as well as "On 2nd September," shot in Brisbane, in which Nakahashi photographed the surface of the building which served as General Douglas MacArthur's general headquarters for the allied forces during the Pacific War. Like "On 5th April," these other works were also created of photographs joined together by cellophane tape, but while "On 5th April" was displayed lying on the floor, "On 19th February" and "On 2nd September," were displayed hung on the wall.⁽¹¹⁾ The result in both cases is rather strange, for the method of photographing creates waves undulating over the photographic surface, rather than allowing them to lie flat against the wall.

　　Looking back at "On 5th April," the artist talked about how his sense of direction and position were taken away by the repetitive process of photographing the surface of the blue vinyl. He explained that it came to feel "as if it were my very own eyeball dragging across the sheet, groping along." Then, after the photography was finished, he described the unbalancing sensation he experienced by his being able to "directly perceive his own gaze" as he fitted the photos together like a jigsaw puzzle.⁽¹²⁾ Though Nakahashi's "On 5th April" and his related works initially appear "unsculptural," possessing only the surface qualities found in photographs, when we consider the inversion of visual and tactile sensations he experienced, it seems that our the sense of touch, rather than merely our sense of vision, can also come strongly into play when we regard Nakahashi's photograph-based works such as "On 5th April," a fact that strongly confirms their sculptural nature.⁽¹³⁾

　　We now come to at last to the ZERO.

　　With such precedents as "On 5th April," "On 19th February" and "On 2nd September," it becomes quite clear how the ZERO Project, which is also created from joined photographs taken of an assembled plastic model, came to be developed.

３.

　　Nakahashi enjoys using the expression "art that asks questions" ("toikake to shite no geijutsu") to describe his work. For example, during a lecture in Brisbane, he made it clear that while he stands absolutely and entirely against war, he does not want his art to be reduced to mere dogmatic anti-war slogans. "The most important thing we can ask of artists," he says, "is not for them to make our judgments for us, but rather ask them to show us various different points of view surrounding a problem - posing questions of us, but allowing us to make our own judgments for ourselves." ⁽¹⁴⁾ For him, the ZERO Project is not intended to communicate a political message about the nature of war, but rather, it is intended to create a space in which viewers can think about war for themselves, discuss it amongst themselves, and in this way reach their own conclusions.

　　When Nakahashi displayed his first ZERO in 1998, it was shown in a museum in Osaka, a museum without any specific historical relation to the Zero fighter aircraft, or for that matter, without any strong historical association with "war" in general. In such an exhibition environment, Nakahashi's ZERO was reduced to a common noun - an object of no special significance other than the obvious visual reference to a Japanese WWII-era fighter plane. As he himself recalls, the three generations of viewers - the "Pre-War Generation," "Post-War Generation," and "No-War Generation" ("senmuha", a word coined to refer to the generation raised with no direct or indirect experience of WWII) - had quite different impressions of the ZERO respectively, which prevented them from delving together into the question of war. The difference between real war experiences and play-time, "plastic model" war experiences, could not be effectively raised, and this was probably due to the fact that a museum space is such politically sterile environment, and that the viewers who came to see the work were often simply on the tourist route. Such viewers were likely to perceive Nakahashi's ZERO Project as nothing more than an anonymous copy of a WWII Zero. Since such an ambiguous exhibition space forces the viewers to experience the work bereft of an appropriate context, the viewers are left to fend for themselves as they grapple with what they view.

　　Between the Osaka version of 1998 and the Cowra version of 2002, Nakahashi's ZERO Project has undergone several manifestations, each time exhibited in a different form and in a different location. In this way, Nakahashi has been able to create an ideal space for his "art that asks questions." In such a space, Nakahashi's ZERO loses its ambiguity - turning from a common noun into a proper noun, so to speak.

　　An important turning point for Nakahashi and his artistic practice took place in Australia. In 1999, he participated in the 3rd Asia-Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art in Brisbane, and it was here that Nakahashi first exhibited his ZERO Project in the "former enemy state" that was Australia. After the Triennial, Nakahashi's ZERO continued to travel through the country. It was during the exhibitions in Darwin and Cowra that Nakahashi came into contact with Minami Tadao and Toyoshima Hajime, two names which in fact belonged to the same man, by then long deceased.

　　Darwin was an important naval base during WWII, and on February 19, 1942, it faced its first enemy attack in the form of an air raid carried out by 188 Japanese Navy aircraft, including both bombers and fighter planes. Between this first assault and November, 1943, Darwin was attacked 64 times by air raids, reducing the city to ruins. During the first air raid on February 19 (which later came to be known as "Australia's Pearl Harbor") a Zero plane piloted by Toyoshima Hajime came under fire from gunnery bunkers at East Point. The plane crashed, and Toyoshima was taken as Australia's first Japanese prisoner-of-war. He was incarcerated in a prison camp established in Cowra. Two years later, on August 5, 1944, Toyoshima's bugle sounded the signal that launched an organized mass escape attempt, in which 1,104 Japanese POWs took part. Referred to in accounts as the "Mass Breakout at Cowra," the affair resulted in the deaths of 235 individuals, including four Australians, and 107 Japanese injured. The deceased were buried in a graveyard dedicated to Japanese POWs, their graves marked by the names they had given to their Australian captors; Toyoshima Hajime's stone carries the name "Minami Tadao" ("Loyal Man in the South"). In 1977, Toyoshima's Zero was recovered from its crash site on Melville Island, and can be seen today preserved at Darwin's Australian Aviation Heritage Centre.⁽¹⁵⁾

　　The ZERO Project in Darwin was created with all these historical facts taken into consideration. The Darwin ZERO was not based on an unspecified and anonymous model of the plane, but on based on Zero Fighter Body Serial Number BII-124 - Toyoshima's Zero. Furthermore, Nakahashi assembled the ZERO and exhibited it at the Australian Aviation Heritage Centre, in the same space where the preserved remains of Toyoshima's plane are on display. After the initial exhibition period, the plane was moved to Darwin's Northern Territory Parliament House, built upon the very site which was bombed on the day of "Australia's Pearl Harbor," and there it was put on display. On August 15th, Nakahashi's ZERO was carried by the artist and more than 150 local residents to East Point, where the remains of the old gunnery bunkers that brought down Toyoshima's plane can still be seen. There, the ZERO was burned to ashes.

　　In 2001, for a related series Nakahashi has named "On the Day Project," Nakahashi visited the site of the "Mass Breakout at Cowra" on August 5th, the anniversary of the event. Among the ruins of Cowra POW Camp, B Compound, in the spot where he envisioned the enlisted men rising to action, Nakahashi scattered eucalyptus leaves inscribed with the prison ID numbers of the 231 Japanese prisoners killed during the attempted escape. Nakahashi then photographed the surface of the ground covered with the inscribed leaves. The resulting photographs were assembled in Cowra Gallery with the help of local volunteers, along with another replication of Toyoshima's Zero. These two works, the plane and the surface of the ground of Cowra POW Camp, B Compound, were exhibited together in Cowra Gallery. After the exhibition ended, Nakahashi, once again with the help of local residents, carried the ZERO to the entrance of the POW camp, where the plane was burned.

　　The primary difference between the ZERO Projects in Australia and those that preceded them was the fact that, in Australia, the projects were carried out on specific days and were exhibited in specific locations of direct historical significance. Utilizing the sites of "Australia's Pearl Harbor" and the "Mass Breakout at Cowra," combined with Nakahashi's choice of dates - August 15th, the anniversary of the end of the Pacific War, and August 5, the day of the POW mass escape - Nakahashi was able to create an exhibition context closely related to Toyoshima's own Zero fighter plane. In this manner, in these locations, the ZERO loses the ambiguity of an anonymous "Zero," and the questions posed by Nakahashi's ZERO Project become unequivocally clear and present for the viewers.

　　These Australian ZERO Projects were made possible only through the effort and volunteer activity of a large number of people, including members from both World War II and Vietnam veteran's groups. In fact, for a country previously classified by Japan as an "enemy state," and which still has quite a few war veterans and people with first-hand experience of war alive among its population, the amount of support Nakahashi received for his ZERO Projects in Australia is quite remarkable.

　　Especially in Cowra, not only did a large crowd join in the procession carrying the ZERO to its burning, but many volunteers very actively participated with the piecing together of photographs for the first time, and these gatherings of individuals generated a great amount of discussion and exchanges of opinion. As a result, word spread quickly through the small town of Cowra concerning Nakahashi's project, and even more volunteers, ranging from seniors, who carried memories of the war, to their grandchildren, joined in. In a town with a population of more than 7000, approximately 2000 visitors came to the gallery to view Nakahashi's two works, "ZERO" and "On 5th August."

　　It was only in Australia that Nakahashi's ZERO was able to escape from the art museum (which Theodor W. Adorno has called "a graveyard for art") and achieve an active, lively relationship with viewers, and in this way, create the space necessary to function as "art that asks questions." What became abundantly clear in Darwin and Cowra is that Nakahashi's ZERO is not merely a constructed "art work," but instead an entire "process" that begins with photography and ends with incineration, a process that intimately links the people who participate in it.

　　At the time of the ZERO Projects in Osaka and Nishinomiya, I held certain misgivings concerning the ZERO as a manifestation of "Memories of War." These misgivings were founded upon the fact that the crushed shape of the ZERO, suggested to me the aftermath of a Kamikaze attack. It brought to mind the words, "bodies soaked with water, bodies overgrown with grass," honoring Japanese soldiers who died in suicide attacks on land and on sea. This association threatened to restrict the theme of "Memories of War" exclusively to a reflection of Japan's own national memories.⁽¹⁶⁾ The Australian ZERO Projects, however, laid those misgivings to rest. "Australia's Pearl Harbor," the "Mass Breakout at Cowra," or the figure of Minami Tadao/Toyoshima Hajime - the project ties together so many various aspects and so many people into its process (including a number of eyewitnesses to the mass escape). It does not reflect Japan's national memories, but those of a polyphonic body, including former enemies as well as allies, generating discussion across cultural and generational divides. Nakahashi's ZERO Project not only succeeds in prompting new discussion, but also serves as a vehicle by which "Memories of War" may be passed along into the future. Here in Australia the ZERO could become the absolute "zero" starting point for "Memories of War."

　　Nakahashi's ZERO Project continues. Cowra could be the first node of many links in the ZERO Journey - where, we might wonder, will the next link take place?

NOTES

(1) Sawaragi Noi, 'Bakushinchi' no geijutsu. Tokyo: Shobunsha (2002), p. 382.

(2) From a public forum entitled "Speaking with Artists," presented by Nakahashi and Nakai Yasuyuki (then curator at the Nishinomiya City Otani Memorial Museum of Art) on the occasion of Nakahashi's ZERO Project first exhibition in 1998 at the Osaka Contemporary Art Center.

(3) Ibid.　　By the way, Nakahashi gave his work "ZERO" a pictographic title " " at that time.

(4) Fujitsu Ryota, "Superflat senki," Bijutsu Techo, April (2001), p. 187.

(5) Ueki Hitoshi and Hana Hajime were members of a comic band known as "Crazy Cats," and the song in question was the theme song of the 1962 Toei Studios film "Nippon musekinin jidai" ("Japan's Age of Irresponsibility"), directed by Furusawa Kengo. The song was written by Hagiwara Tessho, with lyrics by Aoshima Yukio.

(6) Nakahashi Katsushige and Nakai Yasuyuki, from "Speaking with Artists" (see note 2)

(7) In 2001 Nakahashi's double-portrait of the Showa emperor was exhibited under the title "Anata no jidai - Your Majesty's Reign" at Yano Bijutsu Gallery in Yonago and at Kodama Garo in Osaka.

(8) The casting of a pine tree Nakahashi attempted in 1985 resulted in a work entitled "BONSAI," while the version created in 1990 that utilized copper and steel wire was entitled "OTOMI." At that time, Nakahashi was interested in Japanese pine trees as a strangely pruned "fake" version of the tree, and selected such a deformed pine as his motif in order to mock the fact that "Japanese Nature" has been reduced to "Man-made Nature. "

(9) "Dog Night" was exhibited in the 1986 "Shibaura Art Festival Party 1", Toshiba Building, Tokyo.

(10) "On 5th April" was publicly constructed and displayed in 1998 on the occasion of "Art Amusement Park," a three-person exhibition held at the Itami City Art Museum. The exhibit featured the works of Nakahashi Katsushige, Ota Saburo and Fujimoto Yukio.

(11) "On 19th February" and "On 2nd September" were both included in the exhibition "Nakahashi Katsushige - Anata no jidai" held in 2000 at the Nishinomiya City Otani Memorial Art Museum.

(12) Nakahashi Katsushige, "The Act of Seeing and the Act of Touching." From Art yu'enchi, Itami City Art Museum, 1998.

(13) "On 5th April" and similar works were photographed during the time between sunrise to sunset without changing the camera exposure. For this reason, the left- and right-hand sides of these works are underexposed, shot as they were during periods of lower light. The very middle of the works, on the other hand, are overexposed. In these qualities we find a sense of "temporality" and "instantaneousness" present in photographs but absent in sculpture.

(14) Nakahashi Katsushige, "Daisankai Asia Taiheiyo Gendai Bijutsu Triennial de no Nakahashi Katsushige no artist talk." From Nakahashi Katsushige: Anata no jidai, Nishinomiya-shi Otani Kinen Bijutsukan, 2000.

(15) Cf. Nakano Fujio, Cowra no totsugeki rappa: zero pilot wa naze shindaka. Tokyo: Bungei Shunjusha, 1984.

(16) Shino Masahiro also expressed similar reservations, when he wrote, "' (ZERO)' certainly speaks of the sadness of those who boarded the planes, and the sadness of those who saw the pilots off, but does it speak of the sadness of the thousands of victims struck down by the bullets flying from the machine guns of those same planes?" Shino Masahiro, "Nowhere Man, Nowhere Land," Nakahashi Katsushige: Anata no jidai, Nishinomiya-shi Otani Memorial Art Museum, 2000.

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