The Noguchi Garden
Noguchi Garden Museum. Takamatsu.
Closest to the entrance was a pile of large stones. Some as chiseled planes, others as partial blocks. Discarded creations. Probably placed there by a forklift. Their presence helped break down the expectation that this was some sort of museum. It was a garden, after all. Such a context was not only appropriate but necessary. It was all a reminder—the dirt and gravel of the ground, the hills in the background, the pile of stone at the entrance—that these were still just rocks. As much as they were art they were love letters to nature.