“The blue ruin of earth is the total work of art at the end of history. 
The earth will be buried at sea.”

McKenzie Wark, ‘An Inhuman Fiction of Forces’ [1]

Two days before Typhoon Krosa wrecked its way through western Japan and headed north towards Korea, I was touring one of Japan’s inland islands. It was already going to be the peak of the near-intolerable summer heat, but pre-typhoon, as the locals say, is always extraordinarily hot. Still, Inujima was enjoying a flux of tourists who flocked to the islands for the Setouchi Triennale. Coy and unassuming, the island home to barely eighty residents could hardly accommodate the tourists even just for day trips.

Stepping out of the speedboat I was ushered to a makeshift shelter where the Triennale staff urged us naïve tourists to not only buy a return ticket, but to reserve a seat for a particular time slot, or wait three hours for the next boat otherwise. 80-pax speedboats ferried visitors to Inujima three times a day from the only access point: Naoshima, the largest amongst the islands and host to the buffet of see-and-be-seen art sites helmed by Benesse Holdings [2], including Yayoi Kusama’s ubiquitous pumpkins. The luxurious ferries funnelling visitors to Naoshima from the port cities of Uno and Takamatsu, in contrast, could take on 500 passengers at any one go and boasted nearly floor-to-ceiling windows flanking leather seats that resembled those of business-class airport lounges. The ship was so massive that once inside, one would be forgiven for forgetting the vessel was moving.