THE SNAIL

A glimpse into the life of an iconic sculptor.

The son of a Japanese poet and an American writer, Isamu Noguchi (1904-1988) struggled for acceptance in both Japan and the United States; he "felt like a snail and called himself one," most at home in his own shell. Hughes uses Noguchi’s creation of an akari light sculpture for an exhibition as a device to dive into the artist’s development. Curves are a motif throughout—as Noguchi works on the curves of the sculpture, he recalls being ostracized in Japan as a child for his curly hair, but he also remembers the fern tendrils of his beloved garden. He remembers the tension between his parents, each believing his future was in a different land, and he’s reminded of World War II and its destruction, when he was seen as the enemy by both America and Japan. But the akari’s paper brings comfort. Noguchi emerges from the creative process anew, at peace with himself and with the knowledge that he and his creations can’t be categorized—that they are astounding, new, and uniquely him. Though the illustrations, which use graphite to delicately render his life, are effective, the text jumps across time and space and may at times confuse readers unfamiliar with the artist. In particular, it isn’t clear why Noguchi was able to leave an imprisonment camp while other Japanese Americans remained. (This book was reviewed digitally.)

An ambitious attempt to chronicle the life of a complex artist that falls short.