My Kid Could Paint That

Roger Shimomura conveys his troubling story of his family's relocation to a Japanese internment camp during World War II throughout his works; however Minidika Series #2 directly relates to his experience moving to various camps. Shimomura, a Japanese-American born in Seattle, and his family were moved to Camp Harmony in Puyallup, Washington and then to Minidoka camp in Idaho. Growing up during and experiencing the aftermath of the racial tensions resulting from World War II has greatly influenced his works. 

Shimomura has become famous for conveying his highly political message in his pop art like style. He uses bright vibrant colors and sharp lines to create an ascetically pleasing work. He beautifully adds ionic japanese plant life and architecture such as the Itsukushima Shrine's red gate.

In Minidoka Series #2 The Exodus, Shimomura showcases the chaos that ensued throughout the Japanese-American community when transferring to these internment camps. Shimomura captures a image reminiscent of the Exodus from Egypt in the Judeo-Christian bible, through the water splitting the tents just like Moses split the red sea. Similar to Moses, Shimomura attempts to escape a life of prejudice and live life as an American. Conversely, Shimomura uses the shadow to depict the impending dark times for racial minorities in post-war American society. The historical Japanese garb represents the struggle to blend the two cultures: their identities as Americans and Japanese. Shimomura discusses racial prejudice in the United States through his use of symbolic images and pop art style. 

At our core, we are just people, regardless of our skin tone, ethnicity, or culture.

Roger Shimomura spent a considerable chunk of his childhood sitting within the confines of the Minidoka internment camp in Idaho. There, Japanese-Americans lived out their lives as best they could, boxed in by barbed wire and watched by soldiers. Their housing quarters were less than sanitary, and their food practically inedible. Many of the internees had mentally removed themselves from their home country entirely, so the prospect at being held hostage because of their ethnicity naturally came as a huge betrayal. Still, despite the inhabitable nature of the internment camps, very few skirmishes were had overall.

American Infamy depicts a shadowy, anonymous soldier watching over the community of Japanese-Americans. Unlike the edgy, anti-Japanese caricatures that Shimomura often reprises from the past, the people below are, for the most part, a normal community of people. There’s no fishy business to be had and no spies in sight (except for the American soldier, ironically), just an overall sense of community. The prisoners are dealing with the reality of their internment in all sorts of ways. Adults chat and walk about like normal, perhaps to ease the children who have taken to their new life by idly playing. Some, however, stare out past the fence with longing. An elderly woman collapses by her window.

Much like Shimomura’s other pieces, American Infamy is a deeply political painting. It criticizes American mistakes of the past, and recollects a shared human experience that we have since forgotten.