👋 Hello! My name is Jevon, an artist from Singapore. I was looking forward to visiting your city for the Fujinoyama Biennale 2020 this year, but Covid-19 has made travel impossible.

Still, I am hoping to speak with you.

For this project, I have been researching and thinking of Mt. Fuji’s size, significance, and sacredness. Although the mountain is so large, it is not visible to everyone – I certainly cannot see it from Singapore! And even in the cities where you live, near Mt. Fuji, the weather can make the mountain hard to see. Sometimes, even the most majestic of geographic formations succumb to the softest of rain, snow, and clouds.

What once seemed clear to you but now less so? And vice versa?

Is there anything to you – an idea, a future, skill, god, person –  that can feel both certain and mysterious? Thinking about Mt. Fuji, how do these ideas of largeness, visibility, and distance – physical, emotional, spiritual – make you feel?

What (or who) do you wish to be closer to?

When we interact online, we will be over 5000 kilometres away, over 100 Mt. Fujis apart. I wonder: are there things that might appear in our conversation precisely because of distance and anonymity?

In the past, before roads were built, people in Japan had to admire Mt. Fuji from afar, as early poets, writers, and painters often did. Now, in these times of restricted mobility, we return to an ancient way of seeing: from a distance. Whether near or far, large or small, visible or invisible, some idea of Mount Fuji – and our dreams, desires, hopes, fears – exist.

Across this distance, I hope to get to know you and your city better.