I took a trip to Japan a few weeks ago and finally got around to pulling together the photos. We visited the Setouchi region, which hosts the Setouchi Triennale—an art festival spread across several islands in the Inland Sea. Each island features a mix of permanent and temporary art installations.

Teshima was the first island we explored, and although it was the most difficult to get around, in retrospect it was my favorite.

We arrived on the island by ferry and planned to rent bikes to get around, but realized we didn’t have enough cash. So, in 90-degree heat and 80% humidity, we ended up hiking a mile straight up a mountainside road to reach the Teshima Art Museum. It was a challenge, but the journey made the destination more memorable. We got to experience the island on the way to the artwork.

On the way up, we spotted a small path leading off the road and followed it to a tiny roadside shrine. It was incredibly quiet. I really appreciate these small, unexpected moments of reflection you can stumble upon while wandering around Japan.

It didn’t last long - mosquitos quickly came out. We made our exit and kept walking.

The art museum hosts a single piece of artwork, called“Matrix” by Rei Nato. This artwork is in a building designed in collaboration with the architect Ryue Nishizawa.

You take a long winding path around the site and make your way to the entrance.

No shoes are allowed in the space. No pictures are allowed inside, either.

The single feature of the museum is a work called "Matrix". It is my favorite piece of artwork I’ve seen in the past few years. Housed in a large structure roughly the size of an indoor basketball court, the space is completely open to the elements—rain, wind, bugs, the sky—so you feel nature moving through the building as you experience the piece. You can see some photos of the inside of the artwork here and an interview with the artist.

After spending about an hour in the space, we headed to a nearby cafe housed in a similarly designed building. It turned out to be the only place on the island with air conditioning, and it felt like an oasis after the heat and humidity.

Once we had cooled down, we went back out to begin the journey home. This meant climbing further up the mountainside to wait for the bus that would take us to the ferry terminal on the other side of the island. After about a half-hour wait, we caught the bus and made our way back to the ferry.

"Matrix" was powerful because it is an integration of the island itself. The heat, the landscape, the presence of insects and the sound of wind—all of it was part of being on the island, and it made the installation feel deeply connected to its environment. The artwork wasn’t just placed there; it felt born of the place. Despite being man-made, the structure and its stark white concrete and organic form created a kind of contemplative distance, a pause that invited reflection on the natural world surrounding it.

The theme of water in the piece also resonated deeply, especially after spending more time among the islands later that week. Water defines life here: the islands are surrounded by it, travel happens by boat, rice is grown in soaked fields, and everything coming or going does so over the sea. The changing weather—rain, clouds, sun—feels more immediate and present in a setting like this. Experiencing "Matrix" in that context made it one of the most moving and memorable artworks I’ve ever encountered.