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‘Remains of pray’, a new episode realized by Kazushi Nakada in the frame of his long-term art initiative, ‘My archaeology’, delves into themes of memory, hope, and the passage of time, using art to explore deep human emotions and desires. It was born from a need to capture these intangible experiences in material, enduring forms, linking personal stories to a broader vision.

Nakada’s project aims to capture personal prayers and wishes, but does so in a unique, ritualistic way: by creating ceramic prayer’s hands, each an individual expression of hope, and then burying them in the earth as a message for future generations. This act is not just symbolic; it is a way of creating a lasting legacy that will one day be unearthed and rediscovered, allowing future societies to witness the hopes, fears, and aspirations of those who lived before them. It is this enduring connection to the past and the future that makes Nakada’s concept so striking.

The artist uses art as a medium to explore profound human desires – whether for peace, happiness, or security – sometimes as a means to honor significant memories, and at other times as a way to forget or release the burden of the past. In this process, a small group of five participants gathered, each sharing their personal histories. Through the simple yet profound act of imprinting the inside of cupped hands in clay, they transformed these personal stories into tangible expressions of their innermost hopes. The collaborative nature of the project created an amazing collective energy – an exchange of emotions, experiences, and perspectives that enriched the work beyond its physical form. As each person shared their identity and wishes, the group found common ground in their universal longings, building a sense of solidarity and connection. During the process, Nakada also documented the creation of the hands through photographs and video, which will serve as lasting evidence of the emotional and collaborative energy that unfolded throughout the project.

The idea of using ceramic and gold leaf as materials mirrors the permanence that art can offer. Ceramics, as Nakada suggests, are ideal for documenting human desires because they last for thousands of years. The hands were crafted with care and attention to detail, ensuring that they would stand the test of time. The gold leaf added another layer of symbolism – an element of beauty and fragility that speaks to the preciousness of human hopes and the vulnerability of life itself. Just as Nakada’s buried ceramic hands will remain long after their creators are gone, the prayer’s hands will outlive their makers, becoming artifacts of a shared moment in time.

The act of burying these hands in nature becomes a powerful metaphor for how our personal memories, contemplations, and struggles may one day be rediscovered and examined by others. What will future generations see when they unearth these hands? Will they think these objects are works of art or fossils? In this sense, the project becomes more than an artistic endeavor – it is a way of communicating with the future.

Reflecting on the outcomes of the project, I see how deeply the act of creating these hands affected the participants. For many, it was an opportunity to express feelings and wishes they had never voiced before. The process of shaping the clay became a form of catharsis, a moment of connection between their inner world and the outside reality. It also created a community – people from different backgrounds came together to share their stories, concerns, and dreams. This sense of shared purpose reminded me of Nakada’s view on the power of art to unite us, even when we are divided by time, space, and culture.

The collaboration with the Wrocław Institute of Culture and The Eugeniusz Geppert Academy of Art and Design in Wrocław was invaluable to the success of this project. With their support and resources, we were able to bring the artistic vision to life and ensure the highest level of craftsmanship in the hands we created. Furthermore, Kazushi Nakada, as an exceptional educator, played a crucial role not only in guiding the project but also in mentoring two student participants. His expertise and teaching methods helped elevate the project to a new level of artistic and conceptual depth. The collaboration fostered meaningful networking opportunities, bridging the gap between Japan and Wrocław at an academic level, creating lasting connections that will continue to influence both artistic and cultural exchange between these two places.

Looking to the future, I see great potential in Nakada’s ‘My archaeology’. Some of the hands were buried in the natural landscape, while their copies were preserved for exhibition purposes. In this way, they will continue to speak to future generations. I also see significant prospective in using these unburied copies for future work, particularly in creating a group exhibition exploring different concepts of time and episodic memory.

In conclusion, ‘My archaeology: Remains of pray’ offers more than just artistic expression — it offers a way of preserving the intangible. In a world that often feels divided, it serves as a reminder that, no matter our differences, we all share the same emotions and experience of the fundamental principles of life. And perhaps, as Nakada suggests, in the distant future, when these objects are rediscovered, they will help future generations understand who we were and what we dreamed.