Humanity Has Lost

In an abandoned swimming pool, long drained of its water, a solitary penguin stands forlornly and motionlessly, surrounded by the ruins of past glory. This is an image by the Japanese painter Naoya Inose, exposing the paradoxes of the human condition. The penguin, trapped in a space once meant to symbolize luxury and control over nature, becomes an allegory of our era – an age of excess that leads to emptiness. The pool’s sterility is an illusion, a polished mask concealing a deeper decay. And the lone animal? Its perfect adaptation for swimming in the vast oceans finds no purpose in the unnatural, rigid lines of this dry, concrete pool. Are we not that penguin, confined in spaces we have created but which, in truth, are alien to us?

Inose’s art is neither easy nor comforting. His paintings assault the senses with precision and a cold aesthetic, later burrowing into our consciousness with uncomfortable questions. Inspired by Romantic realism yet deeply rooted in the brutal realities of the modern world, Inose creates landscapes where nature and humanity engage in a quiet, unending conflict. And humanity has lost. Nature, indifferent, carries on.

These works are created by a man living at the edge of two worlds. Naoya Inose, a nomadic artist splitting his life between Tokyo and London, wrestles with the darkness of modernity to extract fragments of truth. His paintings do not sell dreams – they reveal what comforting illusions try to obscure. Let us delve, then, into what we can learn from Inose’s unique perspective on contemporary existence.

The Art of Naoya Inose

Technique

Naoya Inose’s art is a masterful fusion of traditional aesthetics and existential uncertainty. On one hand, it draws from the traditions of European Romantic landscape painting – inspired by the dramatic lighting and melancholy of Turner’s works or the subtlety of Constable’s. On the other, it reflects influences of modern abstraction, especially Rothko’s bold color compositions and Newman’s raw geometric intensity. However, this is not mere eclecticism – Inose transforms these inspirations into something profoundly original, repurposing classical techniques as tools for modern reflection.

His works resemble science fiction cinema – but this is no superficial fascination. Echoes of H.R. Giger’s work resonate in his paintings, not as biomechanical horror but as a subtle, apocalyptic beauty. Inose’s painting technique combines painstaking, hand-drawn details with a harmonious structural composition. He uses traditional Japanese brushes – precise, almost surgical tools – paired with European pigments, lending his works a unique texture and depth.

Themes

Inose’s works engage in a dialogue between nature and urbanization – two forces constantly vying to dominate the landscape. In his paintings, concrete ruins and sterile pools contrast with wild, seemingly unyielding nature. Yet this relationship is not black-and-white; Inose avoids straightforward commentary, leaving the viewer to wonder whether nature truly triumphs or merely adapts to human chaos.

Time often takes center stage in Inose’s works, becoming a participant in the scene or even the protagonist. It acts as both the silent witness to the drama and its agent of destruction – embodying the cycle we cannot escape and the slow decay that consumes us. The motif of cyclicality, symbolized by Ferris wheels or enclosed spaces, recurs throughout his work, presenting a quiet, inexorable narrative.

Ave Maria

アヴェ・マリア

• Naoya Inose, Post-Apocalyptic Works, London Exhibition

In Ave Maria, a Ferris wheel rests silently at the heart of a monumental cave, where light and shadow intertwine in haunting harmony. This wheel – once a symbol of humanity’s orderly world, centered around leisure and control – stands as a relic, a testament to a bygone era. Motionless and purposeless, it serves as a reminder of the ultimate failure of human ambition. In the context of post-anthropocentric art that Inose’s works exemplify, the wheel becomes an allegory not of the cycle of life and death but of the trap humanity has built for itself – and then vanished. Now, humanity plays no role; in fact, it plays no role at all. Its creation – the Ferris wheel – is merely a meaningless fragment of a grander, more monumental landscape governed by nature.

The painting provokes reflection on the nature of human existence and its relationship with time. The wheel, traditionally a symbol of motion and repetition, appears here as broken, reduced to a lifeless object awaiting its inevitable absorption into nature. In this vision, silence becomes apocalyptic – not peace, but a void that reveals the fragility of our civilization. Has humanity, in its relentless pursuit of dominance over the world, ultimately become a prisoner of its own constructions?

Within the cave, which seems both a sanctuary and a tomb, nature slowly reclaims its space. This is an act of patience – a process in which what humanity has created is absorbed into a larger order. Inose offers no solace – in his vision, there is neither the triumph of nature nor salvation for humanity. There is only waiting, a gradual integration, in which the Ferris wheel, like a memento mori, becomes part of eternity, but no longer part of humanity.

The artist titled his work Ave Maria – but why? The prayer Ave Maria – addressed to a guardian and a symbol of spiritual purity – takes on an ironic tone in the context of Inose’s work. Could the abandoned Ferris wheel, immersed in the silence of the monumental cave, be a prayer? Perhaps it is a kind of farewell hymn – not for humanity, but for the traces it has left behind, traces that are slowly disappearing, consumed by an indifferent nature.

This title can also be read as a call to nature as the new, silent mother. Yet there is no joyful veneration here; rather, there is humble recognition of its strength and patience, which ultimately triumph over human ambition. In this rendition, Ave Maria does not celebrate humanity.

Polylith into the Blue

ポリリス・イントゥ・ザ・ブルー

• Naoya Inose, 2018, Blue

At first glance, Polylith into the Blue hypnotizes with its almost unreal precision. It is a landscape balanced on the edge – extremely realistic, yet from the outset, something feels "off." Simple concrete structures are abandoned in a desolate space, surrounded by the intensely blue backdrop of the sky. Yet, within this seemingly straightforward image lies a story of destruction and renewal – a narrative that confronts humanity with its transience and arrogance. The titular "polylith" are fragments of a larger whole, shattered and stripped of their original purpose, much like a civilization that ignored the limits of its influence on the world for far too long. The concrete walls are undeniably powerful, standing firm in the ground, but their function – whatever it once was – no longer matters. These walls stand senselessly, like a grim, unfunny joke, existing without purpose.

The color blue, a central element in the Blue series, becomes a character in its own right – a symbol of both melancholy and transcendence. In Inose's interpretation, blue is not merely a color; it is a psychological space, a place where humanity confronts emptiness but also potential cleansing. The intensity of this color acts as a kind of catharsis, forcing the viewer to grapple with their fears and questions about what will remain of us in a world that does not truly need the human species for anything.

Polylith into the Blue can also be read as a critique of the sterility of contemporary societies. The concrete fragments are not only ruins but also evidence of humanity’s relentless need to control and homogenize space. Yet Inose suggests that, ultimately, everything we create will become part of the chaos of nature, a chaos we once tried to dominate. The surrounding blue seems to offer a space for reflection: is this a space of death? Oblivion? Waiting for something new? In this suspension "in between," Polylith into the Blue poses one of the key questions of our era: are we ready to admit our powerlessness? To acknowledge the limitations we, as humans, will never overcome?

Vacation on the Blue

ブルーでの休暇

• Naoya Inose, 2021, Blue

Vacation on the Blue is a painting that serves as both introspection and a universal commentary on the human condition. Against the backdrop of dominating blue – a symbol of melancholy, calm, but also deep emotional isolation – nature and the remnants of human activity engage in a subtle yet tension-filled dialogue. This is not a painting of harmonious coexistence; it is a landscape where the beauty of nature seems almost indifferent to the destruction caused by humanity. Figuratively, but also quite literally within the painting, nature builds beauty and serene freedom atop the ruins of the ambitions of humanity – the planet’s former rulers. Blissfully unaware and entirely indifferent.

Inose, who often weaves personal emotions and reflections into his work, appears to express his own feelings of ambivalence in Vacation on the Blue, as mentioned in his commentary on the painting. Vacations – by definition a time of rest and disconnection from daily life – in this vision become a time for contemplating loss. Is it the loss of connection with nature? Or perhaps a reflection on the inability to find harmony in a world humanity itself has created? The painting raises these questions, leaving them open-ended, while simultaneously compelling the viewer to introspection.

The contrast between the beauty of nature and the destructive traces of human activity is far from accidental here. It serves as a symbolic representation of our times, where humanity, on the one hand, admires nature, yet on the other, continuously reshapes and destroys it. In Vacation on the Blue, blue becomes not only the backdrop but also a boundary – a thin line separating the world of nature from the world of humanity. This boundary, though visually subtle, represents a dramatic division that Inose explores with depth.

Vacation on the Blue might be interpreted as a bitter commentary on what would happen if humanity were to vanish. The painting seems to deliver a rather stark answer to that question. Nature would endure – thriving, serene, and utterly indifferent to the absence of its former inhabitants.

Almost Home

オールモスト・ホーム

• Naoya Inose, 2018, Works with Pool Motifs

In the painting Almost Home, a solitary penguin stands on the edge of an empty pool – a sterile space, seemingly orderly but in truth disconnected from the natural world. The penguin, an animal adapted to survive in extreme conditions, becomes in this setting a metaphor for human limitations. Its presence in an unnatural, artificial environment – a pool designed to mimic the controlled illusion of nature – highlights the dissonance between what we create and what we are capable of adapting to.

The penguin here symbolizes the contrast between education and adaptation. It is a creature that has mastered survival in the harshest conditions, yet its wings are useless for flight. Similarly, humans can be highly educated – knowledgeable in theory, structures, and rules – but incapable of thriving outside the controlled environments they have created for themselves. In this context, Inose’s painting raises the question: have our civilizational achievements, rather than making us free, only further restricted us?

The pool in Almost Home is not just a physical space but also a symbol. Its sterility reflects Japan’s obsession with control, order, and cleanliness – traits that are both its pride and burden. The water, which should bring life, has been removed, leaving behind an empty, barren space devoid of any organic presence. This is a space controlled to the point that it has lost its original function, becoming merely a façade, a void.

In this painting, Inose subtly yet mercilessly reveals the contradictions of the modern world. On one hand, the desire for perfection and order; on the other, the inability to create something that genuinely addresses the deeper needs of existence. The penguin, solitary and lost, seems to reflect ourselves – beings who have created spaces for life but cannot find a place for themselves within them.

How to Understand Inose’s Work?

The Influence of Film and Pop Culture on His Art

Before becoming a painter, Naoya Inose dreamed of a career as a film designer. His father worked as a cinematographer, which gave him early and continuous exposure to visual storytelling. Science fiction films, especially Star Wars, had a significant impact on his imagination. They inspired him not only to explore technology and landscapes but also to understand how art can construct worlds full of tension and contrasts. The revelation that many breathtaking scenes were actually hand-painted matte images steered him toward painting, which seemed to possess the same ability to convey depth and monumentality.

Simultaneously, his work draws from Romantic landscape painting, particularly the works of the Hudson River School – an artistic movement that celebrated nature as a space of transcendence but also as an untamed force constantly confronting humanity with its smallness. In a painting like Polylith into the Blue, the echoes of this aesthetic are evident in the almost mystical portrayal of space and the precision with which every fragment of concrete or blade of grass is depicted. However, Inose subverts the Romantic celebration of nature, giving it a more unsettling dimension where humans and their constructs become relics detached from a greater order.

The Artist’s Philosophy

Inose’s philosophy revolves around the idea of repetition and the futility of human existence, which he himself compares to a "race in circles," inspired by the absurd and aimless Caucus Race in Alice in Wonderland. To him, modern life is a relentless rush where we lose both meaning and purpose. We run without knowing why, repeating the same patterns while the true reality remains beyond our grasp. This philosophy is reflected in works like Caucus Race, where cyclicality and closed systems visually echo this concept.

His paintings remind us that life, no matter how disciplined and orderly, is bound to repetition, and humans are prisoners of time and their ambitions. This existential tension, however, does not lead to simple conclusions. Inose offers neither escape nor solutions – his works are more about posing questions than providing answers, a reflection on the condition of the modern world where technological and social progress often conceals a sense of emptiness.

Naoya Inose as the Voice of His Generation

Inose’s art resonates particularly strongly with his generation – those who grew up in the shadow of disasters like the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami or the Fukushima nuclear meltdown. His works carry a sense of melancholy and a subtle yet profound depression that reflects the condition of what he calls the "lost generation." He notes that while his generation lives in apparent comfort and abundance, it lacks something fundamental – spiritual balance and a sense of purpose.

In paintings like Almost Home2, the penguin becomes a symbol of this "lost generation" – a creature perfectly adapted yet trapped in a sterile space that is not its natural environment. This is not just personal introspection but also a universal commentary on modern society, which, despite its technology and civilizational achievements, seems lost within its own artificial constructs.

Conclusion

Naoya Inose creates paintings that not only captivate with their visual precision but also compel the viewer to confront what is uncomfortable. His art avoids straightforward evaluations, instead offering space for reflection on the condition of humanity in an era where technology and civilization seem both triumphs and failures of humankind. Drawing from Romantic traditions and posthumanist ideas, Inose paints a vision of a world where the boundary between nature and humanity is strikingly clear.

His works remind us that art can be more than an aesthetic experience – it can be a tool for asking fundamental questions. In the sterile, controlled spaces we have created, can we find a place for authentic existence? Inose provides no answers, leaving the viewer with a profound sense of unease, admiration, and awe for the world he so precisely portrays. Does this world of perfect straight lines suffice for us? Is this the world where our potential is meant to be realized?

"Strong Japanese Women"

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    未開    ソビエライ

 An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)

Personal motto:

"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)

  Mike Soray

   (aka Michał Sobieraj)

未開    ソビエライ

 An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)

Personal motto:

"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)

Mike Soray

(aka Michał Sobieraj)

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