Japanese-like? Art?

We use expressions like "that's so Japanese" as if it were self-evident. We also use the Japanese word *bijutsu* (art) without a second thought. Are these concepts truly things that arose spontaneously? In fact, the word *bijutsu* first appeared in the Japanese language just before the new Meiji government participated in the 1873 Vienna World's Fair. The term *bijutsu* was coined when the participation guidelines for this exposition, written in German, were translated into Japanese. The absence of a word means that the concept did not exist until then. Furthermore, the first history of Japanese art written by a Japanese person was for the 1900 Paris Exposition; it was initially written in French and distributed to various countries. The Japanese version was published later. What this all signifies is that "art" was a necessary condition for Japan to establish itself as a modern, Western-style nation. As sociologist Anthony D. Smith states, becoming a modern nation also involves, to some extent, artificially creating a common history and memory to unify the smaller groups that are to become its people. With the introduction of the concept of *bijutsu*, the characteristics of Japanese art had to be understood and appreciated by the West. Examining the process of compiling the history of Japanese art, we can see that standards were set and selections were made by those familiar with Western art, using it as a yardstick. We stand on the extension of this process, using the term "Japanese-like" as if it were something that emerged spontaneously. This relationship—between the Western gaze upon the "other" and those who are subjected to that gaze, who in turn attempt to build their identity by internalizing such Western value systems—is what I find most fascinating recently.

In my own research on Brancusi, which marked the beginning of my art history studies, I can see a similarly reflexive identity among Romanian researchers. The controversy sparked by the 1984 exhibition "Primitivism in 20th Century Art" at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, should also be considered in the same context. And then there is the fixed concept of "Japanese-ness" that almost invariably appears in critiques when contemporary Japanese artists exhibit their work in Europe and the United States. Recently, my various disparate interests have started to fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and a coherent whole has begun to emerge. Perhaps this is the true pleasure and essence of academic inquiry. Furthermore, I believe that this knowledge, which relativizes modernism, will lead to the conception and planning of new art facilities that transcend not only new art museums but even the current institution of the art museum itself. And I hope that my knowledge and experience can be of some help in such endeavors.