Kenzi Shiokava devoted himself to gathering driftwood, discarded scraps, and found objects, shaping them into sculptures within a Compton warehouse where he slept, ate, and worked. He remained single throughout his life, and he loved to dance. Shortly before his 83rd birthday, he died in Los Angeles in 2021, having spent a lifetime quietly devoted to his craft.
The Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago is hosting the first museum solo show dedicated to Kenzi Shiokava. It provides a rare glimpse into the career of an artist who followed his calling without chasing fame, fortune, or the markers of success that many hold up as necessary for a successful artistic life.
From Brazil to Los Angeles
Shopkeeper parents who had immigrated from Japan raised Shiokava in Brazil. When he was 25, he accompanied a sister to Los Angeles, and he remained there. That move eventually brought him to the Chouinard Art Institute, where he completed a BFA in 1968. He went on to earn an MFA at Otis.
A studio was taken by him near Watts, a neighborhood that had seen the largest uprising of the Civil Rights Era break out there only a short while before. It was there that he found himself living among a group of Black assemblage artists who were growing around the Watts Towers Arts Center. He served as one of the Center’s resident artists, and showed his work in its gallery several times over the years, with a solo exhibition held in 1994.
A Life of Work and Materials
Shiokava worked as a gardener to support himself. He spent 20 years employed by Marlon Brando before moving into a warehouse in Compton, living surrounded by his collection of materials there. Most of what he assembled was scavenged from the streets and junk shops. His sleeping, eating, and sculpting all took place amid acres of driftwood and other found items he had gathered.
He devoted himself to his art in Southern California without ever chasing fame, and he remained unmarried throughout his life. His career was modest, yet earnest, existing at the edge of the region’s artistic community. He created what he loved with no ambition beyond that.
Late Fame Arrives
Shiokava saw a half-decade of late fame beginning in 2016. That year, he appeared in Made in L.A., the Hammer Museum’s biennial. The coverage spread internationally, and he received invitations to take part in exhibitions near and far. The attention kept coming after his death, in this, his first solo museum exhibition.
A number of different kinds of work make up the display at the MCA. Some are constructions that hang on the walls, built from dried leaves, old photographs, bits of glitter, and other found objects. They are fine, though they are nothing special.
A dozen or more old wooden and metal boxes sit on a long shelf, each holding a small grouping of toy figurines and bits of plant life arranged inside. Set out with careful spacing between them, they give off a sense of solitude. They no longer share the warm closeness of an earlier display where Shiokava showed them piled together in a crowded heap.
Those boxes lined the walls, framed his sink, and encased his toilet inside his own dwelling. There they offered him company through the environment around him. The MCA version instead spaces them apart, altering the feeling they carry.
Among the items on display are a set of personal photographs and gallery memorabilia spanning many years. A vast collection of the artist’s traditional wood hand-carving tools is also included. The exhibition features an eight-minute video from 2017, which captures Shiokava in his studio, carefully removing material from a massive tree trunk with those very tools.
What the Show Reveals
The MCA presentation documents a life of work devoted to creation rather than display. Shiokava’s sculptures are assembled from found objects, yet they are positioned for presence rather than spectacle.
The footage is the clearest view of his working method. A mere eight minutes barely covers the patience needed to carve an enormous tree trunk. The reviewer wishes it ran eight hours instead, a desire rooted in the slow, careful labor on display.
In the museum, the boxes appear separated from one another. Back in Shiokava’s home, they were companions. Now they function as specimens. This shift is a striking element of the exhibition.
Why We Should Care
The tale of Shiokava carries weight precisely because it runs contrary to the usual portrait of the artist as a person driven by ambition and hardship. For many years he worked steadily, season after season, without chasing the outward signs of achievement.
Decades of gathering, carving, and arranging are what make up the real subject of this exhibition. He did nothing more than keep at it, year after year.
A visit to the MCA offers a look at what a life devoted to art can become when fame, renown, and fortune are absent from the equation. The exhibition stands as a reminder that the work itself serves as its own compensation.
The Review’s Verdict
A life well-lived is being honored here, though not every piece on the wall reaches greatness. The boxes, the tools, and the video stand as evidence of an unwavering dedication. Together, they paint a more complete image of the artist than any one sculpture ever could.
Key Dates
| Date | Event |
|---|---|
| 1968 | Shiokava earns a BFA from Chouinard Art Institute |
| 1994 | Solo turn at Watts Towers Arts Center gallery |
| 2016 | Featured in Made in L.A., Hammer Museum biennial |
| 2021 | Shiokava dies in Los Angeles, shortly before his 83rd birthday |
| Now | First solo museum exhibition at MCA Chicago |
A Quiet Life, Finally Recognized
The tale of Shiokava shows what truly counts. Fame was never his goal, nor did he chase it. He simply kept on creating.
A fitting tribute to a man who devoted himself entirely to his work, the MCA show honors the quiet persistence that marked his career, and it reminds us that the work itself serves as its own reward.
Source material: “Kenzi Shiokava Did It for the Love of It,” Hyperallergic.
Get the Notebook.
The day's best stories and every fresh verdict, in plain English, in your inbox by seven. One email a day, no more.