Recently, the link light rail line on the Eastside opened up and the Wilburton Station now has a beautiful new installation that integrates the Japanese art of kintsugi — using golden lacquer to put back together broken pottery. Perfectly perched behind the famous landmark of Whole Foods, the station entrance sits on what used to be the site of the Bellevue Growers Association Packing House.
Intricate metalwork by artists Lauren Iida, Lawrence Matsuda, and Akiko Sogabe is situated at the entrance. As passengers walk to catch the link, they cross a bridge that hosts Erin Shigaki and Mari Shibuya’s grand “Golden Repair” installation, which spans a humble 116 feet long.
“We wanted to unearth all… well, some of the other groups in the region who worked the land to make it what we now know — whether it’s coal mining, building railroad tracks, picking crops, clearing the land — so much labor and so much blood and so little recognition,” said artist Erin Shigaki.
Shigaki, who uses she and they pronouns, is a Yonsei or fourth-generation Japanese American and descendant of Minidoka concentration camp survivors on both sides of their family. She is an artist, an activist, and a storyteller, all of which are inseparable in her work. She focuses on the experiences of Black, Indigenous and people of color, extended from her own family history.
“The hope is this piece can honor the legacy of the land workers, the solidarity between those working the land and foster a respect and honoring of the land underneath,” fellow artist Mari Shibuya added.
Shibuya, who also uses she and they pronouns, is a Yonsei Japanese American and descendant of Manzanar concentration camp survivors on both sides of their family. They are a muralist, facilitator, and scribe, focusing on healing and creating spaces where cultural history can be told and where solidarity can be fostered.
Shigaki and Shibuya chose historic photographs to implement into the different sections of “pottery” that look to be held together by gold. Each pottery fragment metaphorically and literally highlights a fragment of Indigenous and migrant communities’ history, which they say is inherently interconnected to that of Japanese American history.
“Using the symbolism in the piece is a calling forth to highlight some of the fractures within our relationships to home culture, within our relationship to our history, the land and one another is a part of moving toward repair,” said Shibuya.
Kintsugi symbolically captures how intergenerational trauma that “breaks” parts of us in all communities — Black, Indigenous and people of color — can be transformed into beautiful collective demonstrations of resilience, strength, and solidarity.
“We knew it was going to be political. When Mari asked me if I wanted to collaborate on this project, I said that would be great, but I said, ‘All these things have happened to me in Bellevue, and I am not gonna shut up about it,” said Shigaki.
“If it’s going to be a piece about [Japanese Americans] in Bellevue, I have to talk about the Freemans and about that overall story of the twice-stolen land. I just hate how it just keeps getting covered up, especially by the people in charge in Bellevue.”
They knew this controversial stance could cost Shibuya the job, so she prepared.
“What was most essential to get across in this piece is the through line of solidarity that is the foundation for our collective liberation and for the future of land being tended and cared for well,” said Shibuya.
This project, while connecting shared histories, was finished before the attack by Hamas on Oct. 7, 2024, which triggered Israel’s ongoing assault on Gaza. Shigaki said that they finished the installation before this, however, she suggested that if they had finished after, they might have said something about the conflict.
“We then wondered if this decision would have affected this project getting chosen to be displayed in the first place,” said Shigaki.
“Yeah, I don’t know. Judging by what we’ve seen in other organizations and the silence of some of our beloved ones like Densho and the issues at the [Wing Luke Museum]. Even though it took a long time; it was the right thing for JACL to make a statement.”
It is always a choice to act against oppression and actively make good on the Japanese American words, rooted in the community’s forced incarceration during WWII, that “Never Again is Now.” Exemplifying this phrase also requires embracing the spirit of resilience that our ancestors were forced to endure every day.
Shigaki’s Calling of the Ancestors immersive exhibit is another project this year that honors her grandmothers for sharing their incarceration stories and her ancestors who she thanks and asks guidance from.
Obon is a Shinto and Buddhist tradition of welcoming our ancestors back into the earthly realm, as Shigaki defines it. She highlights the inherent defiance in the continued practice of obon that persevered through wartime when being Japanese and practicing any part of the culture served as the justification for the forced removal of Japanese Americans in the first place.
With many diverse types of art displayed in her exhibit, Shigaki asks what kind of ancestor we want to be and what we can do to show it. They call on Japanese Americans to answer to the imperative of standing for all oppressed people today: in Palestine, against immigrant detention and the carceral system as a whole, in the fight for Black reparations, and against all systems affected by white supremacy.
She calls on us to remember our story, honor our ancestors, and galvanize our communities into action for liberation of all people.
Shigaki’s ‘Calling of the Ancestors’ exhibit is showcased at A-Gallery at 117 South Main Street, open 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday.
