[Event] An entire island turned into a "nighttime museum" — "Sense Island: Museum of the Island in the Dark," Sarushima

Sense Island: Museum of the Island in the Dark

Sarushima, the only natural island in Tokyo Bay. Under the jurisdiction of the city of Yokosuka, it welcomes daytime visitors for barbecues and swimming, but as a night, it is an uninhabited island closed to entry.
“Sense Island: Museum of the Island in the Dark” is an art event that intentionally exhibits works here for nighttime viewing.

Although the ferry from Yokosuka’s Mikasa Pier takes only about 15 minutes, the island at night is enveloped in a hushed, tranquil air.

The first work to catch your eye is “prism” (Hakuten) on the beach. Colorful lines of light move, crossing and separating — a “light artwork.” I felt as if it connected with the nightscape of the city of Yokosuka visible across the water.

Ascending the slope and viewing several works, you’re stopped partway by a staff member. Here, you’re asked to place your smartphone in an envelope, and each group is handed a small flashlight.

You proceed through a tunnel — one of Sarushima’s landmarks — with brick-lined interior walls. Small lanterns have been placed along the ground.

“Iwakura” (Fumihiko Sano) is a stone work located on a hilltop. It uses a paint that glows when light is applied. Tracing the stone with a flashlight makes it flare up in vivid green.

“Perspective of a Playground Structure” (Yasuhiro Suzuki). When you rotate the spinning jungle gym, video imagery is projected. In the pitch-black, you can faintly hear the voices of children — a nostalgic and mysterious work.

Beyond these, there were also works in which you enter a pitch-black space and walk until you hit a dead end; works made from trees felled by typhoons; and a project in which you press a stethoscope against the ground to listen to the sound of the earth.

Not lit up, but deliberately dimmed. This event asks you to embrace the darkness, sharpen your senses, and enjoy the works. Unable to see your feet, walking gingerly across the island, you’re reminded of just how uncertain a place the night really is. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I felt the works set in darkness seep more slowly and deeply into the body and the heart than they would in daylight.