Kobayashi's work is both a homage to the art of painting and a sort of denial of the achievements of his predecessors - his fellow painters from bygone days. It pays tribute to the art of painting, yet also seems to destroy painting. When an artist expresses himself through a medium with a longstanding tradition, a medium we are very familiar with, what is at stake is not simply the 'what-and-how-question': the question of 'why’ becomes equally important. The work must contain a certain extent of necessity. The public has to sense that the use of the specific medium is a sine qua non for the artist, that there is more involved than the nostalgic desire to continue the achievements of the great masters of a past era. Necessity and desire become one in this instance. What we are confronted with, is an inner conviction, a compelling urge which cannot be ignored. In the case of Kobayashi, I feel the presence of this urge in the work itself. It had to be, and it has to be like this - in this instance not using a brush, but using fingers and hands, elbows and the entire body. It could not be differently.

Jan Hoet, 2001


1996- 2002

"de Rode Poort " Museum van Hedendaagse Kunst Gent,1996

Unnamed #2
200x300 cm
oil, canvas, wood
The Miyagi Museum of Art

Unnamed #7
252x230x80 cm
oil, canvas, wood
The National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo

"A Son of Painting" Solo Exhibition, S.M.A.K. Gent, 2001

Unnamed #8 (corner only)
220x234x46 cm
oil, canvas, wood

Solo Exhibition, The Miyagi Museum of Art. 2000

Unnamed #9 1997
143x330x110 cm
oil, canvas, wood
Daiwa press/Daiwa Radiator Factory, Hiroshima

"A Son of Painting" Solo Exhibition, S.M.A.K. Gent, 2001

Unnamed #12
265x265x160 cm
oil, canvas, wood

Unnamed #16
270x320x300 cm
oil, canvas, wood
Private Collection

"Gelijk het leven is" Vlaamse Opera, 2003 Gent

Unnamed #18
250x330x250 cm
oil, canvas, wood
"Serendipiteit" Watou,1999

Unnamed #15 1999
480x300x230 cm
oil, canvas, wood

"Epifanie" Abdij van het Park, Heverlee. 2000

Unnamed #20
310x500x130 cm
oil, canvas, wood

Unnamed #27