Taro’s eroticism is not a form of sweet, moody love. A woman bending backwards, a man approaching without restraint. The man himself is being ripped apart. There can be no joy without tension and pain. That is what it seems to say.
Anybody who looks at the statue, Love, will understand that it represents an image of two people lying down. It is abstract, but the man on the left is gallant, well-built and masculine. Jagged serrations thrust up into the air, like man-eating sharks, but the body is firm and gentle. The woman’s round hips, her legs slightly twisted. They are filled with a pure emotion as they snuggle together; it is both charming and erotic, a sensual image of a man and woman.
However, when he created this Taro was naive, yet, aggressive, like a mischievous boy playing in the mud. His face and body were covered in plaster as he worked with hammer and chisel, single-mindedly devoting himself to the challenge.
As he worked, he would say, ‘Women are women, men are men.’