GOLDEN SHEEP

In 2009, I was on a train traveling from Paris to London. As I passed through the Strait of Dover, the land of England came into view. Evening mist drifted along the coastline like a wandering ghost. Cliffs rose above the sea, sparsely lined with trees. Amidst the white haze, I noticed a few small dots. What are those? I squinted and realized—they were sheep. It was the first time in my life that I had ever seen a sheep. Though it was only a fleeting moment from the train window, I was captivated by the beauty of the mist-covered landscape where they stood.

In Japan, sheep did not become a part of the landscape until the modern Meiji era. There were repeated attempts to breed them, but sheep, accustomed to cold climates, struggled to adapt to Japan’s warm and humid environment.

In the Shōsō-in Repository from the Nara period (710–794), there is a painting known as Hitsujiki Rōkechi Byōbu, which depicts sheep. It is believed to be an imitation of a Persian painting style, with the sheep’s outlines faintly rendered. To me, it appears to be a visualization of an indistinct image—perhaps an attempt by an artist who had never actually seen a sheep, drawing solely from imagination. That vague depiction resonated with me, intertwining in my mind with the memory of the mist-covered sheep I had seen in England.

Now, more than a thousand years have passed since the painting was created. Before the sheep fade away entirely due to further deterioration, I have come to feel that it is my role to create something to take their place.

- Daisuke HAYATA