I.F. Gallery Hong Kong is pleased to present  Le Carnaval des animaux - The Carnival of the Animals, the upcoming solo exhibition by Japanese contemporary artist Airi Kawakami, following its successful run at our Tokyo space.

Indulgence dines with devotion in Airi Kawakami’s solo exhibition as she navigates life, death, and rebirth through the metaphor of the carnival. Borrowing its title from Camille Saint‑Saëns’ orchestral suite, The Carnival of the Animals is grounded in the transformative event of the carnival, and the familiar yet profound act of eating set at its centre. 

In Christian custom, Carnival is a festival preceding Easter. As the immediate precursor to a period of restraint known as Lent, the word “carnival” literally means “farewell to meat”, a final feast before a fast. Conversely, the Japanese term for carnival, shaniku (謝肉), carries the meaning of “offering thanks to meat”, evoking nuances of gratitude for sustenance, regret for consuming life, and an acknowledgement that the metabolic cycle of life and death is inseparable from moral implications. Beyond structured definitions, the spirit of the carnival also resonates with something older than can be named — a wild, vital shedding of inhibitions and typical performances of humanity. 

A similarly pure, primal energy flows through Kawakami’s artworks. Her fleshy, tactile, visceral visual language boldly interweaves motifs of spring and rebirth with those of mortality and departure, forming a cyclic equilibrium of renewal. Between revelry, death, consumption, and devotion, The Carnival of the Animals invites us to reflect on our own flesh’s fragility, and where our bodies and spirits most truly reside. 

Kawakami’s paintings each approach this concept in their own evocative ways. In Things that are born, a large pale form occupies the centre of the image. Soft shadows suggest subtle curvature throughout its body, while darker lines hint at a curled position. This surreal being defies easy definition, yet vaguely resembles many subjects, perhaps a curled up animal, a hiding figure, or a developing fetal form. Dark swirls on its surface further suggest life, alluding to anything from curls of hair to wrinkled skin, patterns in tree bark, or even eyes. The ambiguity of this subject renders it unsettling yet captivating, as it refuses to be resolved. Beneath it lies a collection of colourful egg-like motifs. While eggs are symbols of resurrection in Easter, they are also food to be eaten during Carnival. Eggs hence possess layered symbolism, simultaneously embodying new beginnings of life, the sustenance of life as food, and the taking of life through consumption. The title of the work, Things that are born, further centres it on the moment of birth — the threshold of becoming.

The motif of the egg continues in egg pot. This painting’s title and predominantly yellow colour palette nod to the familiar notion of eggs as food, yet most of its other qualities remain unfamiliar. The painting primarily features one large, soft shape, within which many smaller organic forms are gathered — some ovoid, some tentacular, some curled, some translucent, most clustered in a composition that suggests dynamic, squirming movement. At the centre of the painting is one particularly circular, warm-yellow shape visually reminiscent of an egg yolk. Several shapes around it share similar qualities as well, almost as if at any moment they might also mature into a “yolk”, or transform into something else altogether. The egg is where all animal life begins, but what lies within an egg has not arrived at being born. Kawakami’s painting strikingly probes this liminal state in which all things thrum with an eagerness to come alive, primordial yet preternatural.

Using such methods and more, Kawakami dissects the carnival as a layered ceremony of renewal. Her body of work traces every stage from birth, to death, to a tender arrival at being reborn anew. She offers visions of a carnival, her carnival, where beauty dances with sorrow, birth entwines with violence, where all beings celebrate life in its glorious impermanence — and invites us to bite.