*NGV Kusama is on until 21st April
NGV’s latest exhibition celebrates the life and career of well-known and arguably one of the most Instagrammable artists within the contemporary art world - Yayoi Kusama. Showcasing over 100 pieces of work that captures the early origins of her artwork to what we know as the sea of infinite dots – this exhibition presents a welcoming surprise to those who only know Kusama in the later years, while for some, may feel as a level of repetition of her other exhibition back in Brisbane’s Art Gallery during 2018.
As an avid follower of Kusama’s works, and having travelled interstate to see her works in the past – NGV’s latest exhibition felt like an extension and a revision on my knowledge of Kusama’s works and previous exhibitions. What paved as a welcoming surprise was the division of parts that documented the Japanese artist’s cementation as a successful artist during the 1980’s before transitioning into the artist whom many of us are familiar with now. The first chapter reflects on the artist’s early life – with various botanical sketches and cubism-esque paintings, a poignant reflection of Kusama’s life growing up among the agriculture industry. As the exhibition unwinds, so does the series of work curated across the hall. From furniture and clothing sewn with phallic imagery to performative (and semi-exhibitionist) installations and fashion – we are shown an evolution of Kusama’s fear to obsession of her subjects.
Kusama Clothing - Photo by Kate Shanasy
Like Superstudio’s infinite grid, Kusama’s obsession with infinity is found within repetition of patterns and dots. The self-proclaimed ‘high priestess of polka dots’ makes her mark with the circular pattern evidently, and the pattern itself evolved over time. Added to her encounter with a pumpkin that has given her a relatively spiritual connection the closing chapter of part one leaves the audience in a trance when witnessing the yellow and black room of pumpkins.
Part two of the exhibition takes place in a larger hall, the installations were on a grander scale – and is one that most audience would resonate with, if not – one many would have seen in collaborations or via our phones. Throughout lies the infinite series of dots – although the central space still allows for breathing room – displaying Kusama’s paintings. In comparison to 2018’s exhibition, three infinity rooms (with two specifically designed for this exhibition) graced the exhibition space. My favourite was the Chandelier of Grief, a hexagonal mirror room featuring an encased rotating flickering chandelier. Beside the chandelier stood ‘Tender are the stairs to heaven’ – one of the first Kusama pieces I ever saw back in 2008 that drew me into her orbit.
Given that this time I entered the exhibition without my phone (accidentally left my phone at home), this exhibition to an extent allowed me to enjoy it without the need to document everything. Of course, there are some moments where I had to borrow my friend’s camera to capture some of her paintings – but there were times where I felt like I was saying hi to an old friend whom I haven’t seen for a while. Having said – a part of me was a bit disappointed by the missing signature infinity room (The Souls of Millions Of Light Years Away) often Instagramm’d at the Broad Museum. Given that they made a replica of it at the Brisbane one – I was hoping that our audience too, would have the opportunity to stand on a platform of water, while being mesmerised the planet-like lights and galaxy that floated around us. Instead, these were replaced with two custom infinity rooms characterised by inflated tentacles and round mirrors – still mesmerising albeit feels somewhat repetitive given the motifs that were used were located in every transition inbetween major installations (and probably because we only had a 30 second limit to appreciate the infinity rooms with our phones!).
One of Kusama’s earliest sketches of a pumpkin. Photo - A. Tang
With the amount of work Kusama has produced and distributed throughout various exhibitions – NGV’s latest hero curation has left me with mixed feelings. Granted – it was a privilege to see the becoming of the artist, at the same time, I feel there is an imbalance of scale in artworks, and an eventual loss of narrative that I am left slightly overwhelmed. If I were to recommend people to admire her works, it would be a recommendation of travelling across different oceans (or sometimes interstate) to experience to magic brought by Kusama’s works. Whether it would be going to Naoshima (also known as Tadao Ando’s architecture playground in my opinion) to embrace the large pumpkins, and experience Narcissus Garden in nature or going to the Board Museum to experience a galaxy. Kusama’s works heavily relies on the grand backdrops, and perhaps the saturation of her content within one space can easily lose its meaning.
Perhaps Kusama’s exhibition would be powerful if there was a collaboration with another artist – similar to NGV’s former Escher x Nendo and Warhol x Ai Wei Wei, another contemporary artist’s vision could be used to support her vivacious works and vice versa.
Although, having read about her apology on her murky past, as well as the nature of her paintings – there could lie an uncomfortable conflict, and one which audience may not be ready to interrogate.
This entry is written on the lands of the Wurundjeri Country of the Eastern Kulin Nation.