In the beginning, Womankind was the sun - Weren't we?

"In the beginning, womankind was the sun – true human beings. Now, women are the moon; they live through others, shine by the light of others, like a sickly pale moon."

In 1911, Raich Hiratsuka, one of Japan's pioneering feminists, published these powerful words in Seito (Bluestocking), the feminist magazine she co-founded at just 25 years old. She expressed deep anger toward the oppressive Ryosai Kenbo (Good Wives and Wise Mothers) ideology, which confined women's lives to serving men and maintaining male-centered households. In her 1920 essay, Women's Mission for Social Reform, she reflected that her central theme had been simple yet radical: "Women are also human beings." By the late 1910s, Hiratsuka's feminism had shifted to emphasize motherhood as an altruistic and essential trait of women, influenced by Swedish feminist Ellen Key. However, this ideology failed to challenge Japan's rigid gender binary, which defined men as laborers or soldiers and women as state mothers responsible for bearing future citizens. Many first-wave feminists saw the war as an opportunity for self-actualization in the public sphere, free from male-imposed restrictions. During WWII, the state promoted motherhood as a home-front ideal. Many first-wave feminists viewed the war as a chance for public self-actualization beyond male control. However, after Japan's defeat, it was not Japanese feminists but the U.S. occupation that finally enshrined gender equality in the postwar constitution. Women's suffrage was granted in 1945 under U.S. authority, rather than through feminist activism. In Hiratsuka's 1948 essay, Has My Dream Come True?, she expressed mixed emotions about these socio-political changes. While she acknowledged the newfound legal equality, she lamented that it had been given to women by external forces rather than won through their own struggle. In a postwar era, motherhood remained central to the state's vision of women's roles. While Hiratsuka framed motherhood as a source of empowerment, her vision remained entangled with nationalistic gender ideals.

Today, Japan ranks 118th out of 146 countries in Global Gender Gap Report 2024, underscoring persistent structural inequalities despite constitutional protections. State policies continue to promote motherhood as a solution to population decline, without ensuring true gender equality.

The exhibition, In the beginning, Womankind was the sun - Weren't we? critiques Japan's historical and ongoing control over women's bodies and sexuality. It challenges the constructed ideal of motherhood, which first-wave feminists embraced as women's essential role but which ultimately served as a mechanism for state control. The exhibition explores how this control has shaped women's lives from the imperialist era to the present and into imagined futures. The exhibition asks: Have Japanese women ever truly been independent? If not, how might they achieve liberation akin to the sunónot as mothers for the state?

Yoshiko Shimada’s works critically examine the intersections of motherhood, nationalism, and historical memory, particularly in relation to Japanese women's roles during wartime. Her Kappogi series of prints and installations, begun in 1992, explores the fascism of motherhood and care, interrogating how women were mobilized as caregivers, nurturers, and enablers of warówhether by raising future soldiers, praising departing troops, or performing domestic labor. A pivotal moment in Shimada's practice came with the death of Emperor Hirohito in 1989. As Japan reflected on the Showa era (1926ñ1989), media narratives often repackaged history as nostalgia, obscuring women's active participation in wartime nationalism. First-wave feminist figures paradoxically encouraged women's engagement in the war effort, whether through direct labor or as moral symbols of national motherhood. Shimada critiques this legacy, challenging the notion that women were merely victims of war. Her 1993 installation, Tied to Apron Strings, featured the white kappogi, an apron historically associated with domestic femininity but repurposed as a uniform by wartime women's organizations such as the Greater Japan Women's Association. By binding toy guns to kappogi with strings, Shimada exposes how maternal ideals were weaponized to justify women's complicity in the state's militaristic agenda. She dismantles the myth of "maternal peace," revealing how state-imposed caregiving roles continue to suppress women's autonomy.

Layla Yamamoto’s work exposes how Japan's criminalization of abortion undermines women's freedom, demonstrating how suppression stems from a lack of both bodily and financial autonomy. This systemic restriction often relegates women to roles described as "Birth-giving machine" by contemporary politicians. 1907's revised penal code reinforced patriarchal control by incarcerating pregnant women seeking abortion care. The 1948 Eugenic Protection Law permitted abortion but only to control postwar population growth and prevent the birth of "defective offspring," making abortion a state-controlled exception rather than an individual right. Although the Eugenic Protection Actórevised as the Maternal Health Act in 1996ópermits abortion under specific conditions, significant barriers remain. Abortion is prohibited beyond 22 weeks, and married women must obtain their husband's consent. With abortion costs exceeding $1,000 without insurance, the heavy financial burden further restricts women's agency. Through Refracted Sunlight, Yamamoto visualizes how Japan's legal system regulates women's reproductive choices. She incorporates imagery from 18th-century anatomist William Hunter's charts of the pregnant uterus, symbolizing Japan's adoption of Western, male-centered obstetrics after the Meiji Restoration. The juxtaposition with lunar cycle depictions, reinforce themes of time, control, and enforced reproduction. Sunlit portions of the paintings reveal the uterus with a fetus, illustrating how state policies prioritize reproduction over individual choice. The series ultimately reveals how legal and economic barriers suppress women's reproductive autonomy.

Namae Myoji’s installation, Alter Dominant, envisions a near-future Japan where artificial wombs have become the norm rendering natural childbirth obsolete. Paradoxically, this technological shift sparks a resurgence of conservative ideologies, reinforcing the belief that enduring childbirth pain is essential to authentic motherhood and a deeper maternal bond. In this dystopian world, new artificial womb technology is invented to internalize artificial wombs in women's bodies, enabling "natural" childbirth and pain as a consumer-driven option. The installation features a reconstructed medical examination room, sculptural models of artificial womb products, a mock fashion magazine glorifying reproductive augmentation, and video works exploring the societal consequences of these shifts. By externalizing and then re-internalizing the artificial womb, Myoji exposes contradictions in cultural narratives surrounding motherhood, nature, and technological progress. Situating these themes within a hyper-commercialized setting, the work reveals the paradox of a modernity in which reproductive advancements do not necessarily liberate women but instead reinforce traditional expectations through new mechanisms of control. The result is a striking critique of how capitalism and social norms shape the female body, compelling audiences to reflect on the future of bodily autonomy and the politics of reproduction.

Through the works of Yoshiko Shimada, Layla Yamamoto, and Namae Myoji, In the beginning, Womankind was the sun - Weren't we? interrogates the persistent constraints placed upon women's autonomy. By examining the ways in which the state and society have dictated women's roles, the exhibition challenges the notion that progress alone guarantees liberation. If the early feminists sought to reclaim the sun, their struggle remains unfinished. True liberation cannot be granted by external forces, nor can it be confined to the frameworks of motherhood, labor, or technological progress. Instead, it must be defined on women's own termsóbeyond the moon's borrowed glow, toward a light that is wholly their own.

Special thanks to KOTARO NUKAGA.

Layla Yamamoto
Open Call Exhibition
© apexart 2025

1. Raichō Hiratsuka, “In the Beginning, Womankind Was the Sun,” in Raichō Hiratsuka: A Collection of Essays, ed. Tomie Kobayashi and Sayoko Yoneda, (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1987), 9. 2. Raichō Hiratsuka, “Women’s Mission for Social Reform,” in Raichō Hiratsuka: A Collection of Essays, ed. Tomie Kobayashi and Sayoko Yoneda, (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1987), 151. 3. Raichō Hiratsuka, “Has My Dream Come True?,” in Raichō Hiratsuka: A Collection of Essays, ed. Tomie Kobayashi and Sayoko Yoneda, (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1987), 261. 4. World Economic Forum, Global Gender Gap Report 2024 (June 2024), https//www. weforum.org/publications/global-gender-gap-report-2024/digest/ 5. Linda Sieg, “Birth-giving Machine Gaffe Hits Nerve in Japan,” Reuters, August 9, 2007, https://www.reuters.com/article/world/birth-giving-machine-gaffe-hits-nerve-in-japan- idUST164441/. 6. “Basic Information and Related Information on the Former Eugenic Protection Law,” NHK Heart-Net,accessed March 22, 2025, https://heart-net.nhk.or.jp/heart/theme/20/20_1/ 7. “The Global Average is 780 Yen, but in Japan, It’s Hundreds of Thousands? / Gathering Calls for Early Approval of Affordable and Accessible Abortion Pills / Lawmakers Kurabayashi and Kira Participate,” Shimbun Akahata, December 11, 2021, https://www.jcp.or.jp/akahata/aik 21/2021-12-11/2021121114_01_0.html.