No one has ever seen him nor heard his voice- the fictitious “Mr. X”. This room was created as his bedroom, and all that remains is a hint of the presence that once was.

Mr. X sleeps once every 5.67 billion years, and he looks to the “garden” on the ceiling as he falls into slumber. You can share the garden with him in this gateway to his dreams, and sense his presence as you sleep with the flickering lights and shadows.

Sai, the architect of this room, focuses on light and shadow and was inspired by the unique Japanese aesthetic sense of "In Praise of Shadows". Who is Mr. X? Let’s ask Sai and find out

-- Would you mind introducing yourself?

My name is Sai, and I’m an artist who expresses human emotions as a motif using a printing technique called embossing.

-- I’d like to hear about this art room. First of all, what kind of concept and intention do you have for the room "sleep garden of Mr. X"?

There was an anthropomorphic concept named "Mr. X" at a gallery hosted by art director Gaku Ogaki. Mr. X was the one responsible for managing the scene of the gallery, making sure people were networking, and so on. That was the original concept of this room.

-- So the concept originally came from the gallery hosted by Mr. Ogaki.

That idea always stuck with me, so when I was asked to do a solo exhibition, I thought about Mr. X and how I could make sense of him. I thought, "Mr. X is like an encounter at an intersection, an encounter of the present." I got a very Zen feeling just thinking about it.

-- I’d like to hear more about your interpretation of Mr. X's persona.

Mr. X is the personification of a dilemma. Think about it-- we all have dilemmas, so we all have Mr. X inside us. Especially now because of the pandemic of COVID-19, our lives are full of dilemmas-- should we meet this person or not, etc. But it’s these exact dilemmas that deepen our emotions.

Whether he’s alive or dead, you can see Mr. X. He’s evanescent. Like the lights and shadows. He wants to sleep but can't because of the way time works, and he has to wait 5.67 billion years for his next slumber. He’s sitting there, staring at a pond called “Pure Darkness”... waiting. In fact, if you’re lying on the bed and you’ll see the black area on the ceiling that looks kind of wet, that's the Pure Darkness pond. We’re sharing that pond with Mr. X, sharing the space between his world and ours.

--So this room is connected to the other side of the pond, where he is?

Exactly. Well, maybe, or maybe not. While there is reality and fiction, no one can really say for certain which is which. Are we real? Or is Mr. X?

-- Do you have anything you’d like to say to our guests?

I like contemporary art because it's not something you can understand, and that’s OK but understanding is not the point. For my work, all you have to do is sense the feeling of light and shadow-- that’s all. You don’t need to understand my inspiration or concept, you don’t even have to remember anything. To me, I think that's the most comforting way to experience art. I hope that even after you return home, you can feel part of this experience between our world and Mr. X’s when you’re half-awake.