Social issues form the core of Tadasu Takamine’s art, which is distinguished by thoughtfulness, humanity and a patient ethical questioning that frequently sees fixed moral positions gently brushed aside by the artist. Takamine emerged from the mid-1990s performance collective Dumb Type, and he maintains their experimental energy, as well as their interdisciplinary approach to social and ethical questions. Such is the breadth of his work — extending to theatre, dance, sound and interactive technology — that it has never coalesced into a signature style. The material direction of Takamine’s practice is instead driven by contextual considerations: the narratives, histories and structures that determine the character of a given place and the social relations that these elements engender.

The photographic installation Baby Insa-dong 2004 traces the artist’s reflections on identity and prejudice in the days leading up to his marriage to his Zainichi (ethnic Korean) wife and the subsequent birth of their child. These very personal reflections are conveyed in narrative form via text written in Japanese, Korean and English, and illustrated by photographs from the couple’s wedding. The work culminates in a filmed performance by Nadja, a Japanese drag queen whose persona unites ethnic and sexual identities, and ultrasound images of the couple’s unborn child, to whom the work is dedicated. These reflections are displayed in long panels combining images and text, as well as an embedded video monitor, to create a form of narrative installation deploying techniques drawn from documentary cinema — a sequence of still images is grouped together by passages of text and animated by the movement of the viewer’s body. Baby Insa-dong, the nickname the couple arrive at for their unborn child, refers to the vibrant arts district in Seoul, famous for its winding alleyways, quaint tea houses, traditional handicrafts and contemporary galleries.

The term Zainichi refers to foreign residents of Japan and implies temporary rather than permanent residence. Over time, however, the word has become shorthand for permanent Korean residents of the country, who, for one reason or another, have not become naturalised citizens. Social integration for Zainichi Koreans has been a complex process, throwing up questions of cultural and linguistic assimilation, legal status, the ambivalence of younger generations and discriminatory practices deeply embedded in daily life. The issues facing Zainichi are complicated by a range of factors, including conventional identifications of Japanese-ness with Yamato ethnicity, divergences in Zainichi identification between Joseon, South and North Korean nationalities, and the changing impetuses for successive waves of Korean migration. Historical factors, like Japan’s occupation and annexation of the Korean Peninsula between 1905 and 1945 and the use of indentured and low-paid Korean labour during the war also play a role.

Takamine positions himself at the centre of the debate by drawing on his personal experience and understanding of the Korean migrant experience. Baby Insa-dong employs the narrative of the artist suddenly confronted with limits to his cultural understanding, of which he was previously unaware. Producing a range of anecdotal ruminations that offer insightful perspectives on his own relationships and those within his society, the work climaxes with Nadja’s performance, whose significance is marked by a shift in both media (photography to video) and tone (confessional documentary to fairytale). This dramatic device constructs the expectation that Nadja’s transgression of gender boundaries and her skill as an artist will resolve any active tensions. As in life, however, the effect is more ambiguous.

Tadasu Takamine concludes that his new knowledge only tells him how little he knows, indicating that reconciliation is a complex process of negotiation, which, through its potential to produce new life in the form of a child, does not preclude the possibility of love.