As looking out on nature, Kawamura paints nothingness and powerfulness of plants. In this exhibition, she describes a flower, which bleakly but powerfully exists in our ordinary life. Without using déformer or abstract painting technique, she painted a flower exactly the way it looks through her eyes with exceptional perception and the power of description to take our faded memories out. 

Artist statement
The reality is full of infinite beauty. In the garden of my home, the neighbor park and on the fence in construction site, grass and flowers inhabits in every place of my daily scenes. Though being plucked or stepped onto, it ceaselessly thrives and quietly acoompanies our lives.
One day I was looking down a view from a tall building and noticed a yellow clump. Somehow the space around it looked distinct and floating in the view to me. I went down to the ground and started a walk looking for what I saw from above. Then I ran across a number of canola blossoms clustering and breezing together. They sometimes waved unsteadly and modestly expressed their colors. It might be an instinct as painter that I was caught in a desire, facing the view where yellow and green overlapped, to know more about the colors, or something that existed there.
Because the reality is full of infinite beauty, and is there as it is, it's assimilated into eyes without hesitation, just like when you open a map in front of you. I do not fully fathom what I see as soon as I recognize it, but attempt to perceive it with my whole body with what I felt from the sight as a hint. I give adequate time to trace an instinct that is initially shared only in myself. Though it might be a contradictory process to follow what I must have properly looked by the act of depicting it, I wish to wait until the moment of my own eyes to appear seeking for the reason why I draw flowers and grass.
The title "place wherein plants thrive" came up to my mind at the very first. Strange enough this is not inspired by a novel or poems. What I recall as a piled memory is experiences of seeing unimportant views, such as the tallness of grass thriving in a neighbor park and the memory of looking up the sky for the ham of trees without wind. It is a little embarrassing to put into words, but they heard to me just like sentimental sound of the landscape. Countless views are being forgotten in the construction of the city to build an ideal society. In other words I found quiet expectant eyes , in the corner of a park or an abondaned bridge, for the fate to disappear. The view in front of me still feels extremely generous. Plants lively show themselves like they are threading the trace of time and memories that once existed there. I was probably impressed by the view which accepts the situation however much it changes and lies with profound time flow.
Etsuko Kawamura