Yasumasa Morimura "Requiem for Something - Art at the Summit of the Battlefield"
at Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography
in the Nakameguro, Ebisu area
This event has ended - (2010-03-11 - 2010-05-09)
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Opening the doors to Yasumasa Morimura’s two-floor exhibition, I am greeted with the simultaneous cries of Hitler and Lenin. Before I’ve even looked at anything, I’m certain that in his all encompassing “hats off” to the previous century, Morimura has lived up to his reputation for appropriation, and looking back through laughter-tinted glasses.
“A Requiem — Art on top of the battlefield” is a four-chapter culmination of the artist’s “Requiem” series, paying homage and encouraging remembrance, to the events and people that shaped not only him but the twentieth century. His previous work focussed on those artists that impacted him most, but this exhibition goes beyond the boundaries of art history, and engulfs the men and events that have brought about the massive construction and destruction of the modern world.
True to his appropriative heritage, Morimura deconstructs famous news images and portraits and reconstructs them with himself well disguised as the subject(s) (but with his renowned large nose as an omnipresent giveaway), thus bringing these significant events into the modern consciousness. This technique not only serves to bring forth these hugely significant events into twenty-first century minds, but a reminder that, as realist photographer Daido Moriyama suggests, “every photograph is a fake representation of reality”. Not only is every newspaper or television image that reaches us one persons copied and edited version of events, but this copy is subjective, both in the minds of the producer and the receiver.
His first chapter, “Seasons of Passion”, focuses on famous news images. His reconstruction of the 1968 Saigon Massacre taking place outside a Sogo department store drags this history of genocide and Western destruction into twenty-first century Japan. His Chaplinesque reconstruction of the Asanuma stabbing, appears distinctly staged and humorous, a reminder that what we are presented with daily in the news is not a true to life representation of reality.
The second chapter, “Twilight of the Turbulent Gods”, sees Morimura dressed as the men who shaped the twentieth century through war, revolution and science. The portraits always depict evidence, such as smudged make up, that this is a costume scene. Morimura is always fun, and this time is no exception. Laughter becomes a vehicle for us to re-read history, and to highlight the pathetic character of these men. From his video reconstruction of Lenin’s 1920 speech (filmed in Osaka) to Hitler lounging on his desk with a plastic globe, Morimura uses humour to highlight the mental corruption of these dictators.
A personal favourite was the direct juxtaposition of Leon Trotsky and Che Guevara: the harsh explosion of light and deep depth of field brings forth connotations of hysterical madness for Trotsky, contrasted with a soft focus portrait of the revolutionary Che.
After watching his copy of a copy of Chaplin’s double portrayal of Hitler, head to the second floor and the third chapter of his requiem. This chapter, “Theatre of Creativity”, pays homage to the great artists of the time, with no small nod to Duchamp, instigator of the controversial art movement behind Morimura.
Concluding the exhibition with “1945 — A Flag on the Summit of the Battlefield”, Morimura’s third video installation in the exhibition has a reconstruction of the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima, featuring a nameless soldier and Marilyn Monroe. Morimura encourages us to re-evaluate history, with this single depiction of women in the twentieth century. He raises a blank flag, the flag of art, and asks us what colour would we choose? He simultaneously reminds us to remember, reconstruct and re-evaluate, and in doing so progress towards peace, with the final representation of himself as Ghandi.
As may be expected from a summary of the twentieth century, it is pretty heavy-going, and a lot of information to take in first time round. But Morimura succeeds in his homage to the geniuses and dictators of the century, to the photograph as a medium, and to the ordinary people affected by the events of the previous century. It is indeed a requiem.
Gary McLeod
2010-04-01
Amy, I was thinking about seeing this show and I appreciate the heads up about the density of it. I guess the show serves as a good segue into Morimura’s work?
Having seen much of his work, I must confess that I am seeing less of someone paying homage to a variety of people and characters (and for what must be a million times by now), and more of a man lost, who is desperately trying to find out who he is and his role as a photographer/artist by analyzing famous or infamous moments and people in the fabric of a collective history. The sad thing (and in my opinion, his main failing) is that the novelty of his process sometimes overshadows the haplessness of his endeavors, whether he realizes it or not.
Thank you for stirring my curiosity and I will try to pencil this one in at some point.
William Andrews
2010-04-02
Interesting points, Gary. The interview with Morimura in the Japan Times is revealing as well:
http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/fa20100319a1.html
Here the artist explicitly says that a political stance is not his intent. I quote:
‘Maybe people will ask me which side I’m on, and I don’t really have a good answer except to say that I’m on both sides…It’s not as simple as picking sides…Rather than choosing between “A” or “B,” art is about recognizing that something can be not only “A” but also “B”…’
Morimura certainly occupies, like Miwa Yanagi, territory that can’t be defined as photography — but is still highly ‘photographic’ (some might say, overly so). There is a cheeky, postmodern mischief about it all, and you may be right to fear a failing of style over substance. This is especially the case when, say, he has created simulations of famous oil paintings in video.
But this exhibition has a darker, historical focus, dealing with political figures and moments from war. The background of the images arguably has a gravity that perhaps speaks for itself. The artist is in the image — comically, arrestingly — but beyond this is the realization that he COULD well have been there. Even Morimura is an Everyman, an atom in history, and liable to become complicit in dark acts if conditions conspire against him. In the words of Evelyn Waugh: ‘I am not I; thou art not he or she; they are not they.’ By breaking the separation of image/creator and viewer/viewed, does not Morimura make us look closer at what we cannot always admit about humanity?
Gary McLeod
2010-04-04
Will,
I’m yet to see this so it is difficult for me to comment on these particular works but points noted. Actually, could you say more about what you meant by “breaking the separation of image/creator and viewer/viewed”? Perhaps I’m just being thick but isn’t it impossible to break something already separated?
Morimura’s statement of art being ‘about recognizing that something can be not only “A” but also “B”’ seems a little naive to the many number of hybrid items around us which are also not only “A” but “B” (e.g. computers are also tvs, cellphones are also music players). It may seem like a big jump but is there really a difference. It could be argued from Morimura’s statement that definitions of art haven’t changed for the past 50 years and therefore haven’t adapted to take into account the ubiquitous other hybrid creations around.
I guess my largest problem with what I have seen of Morimura’s works is that they tend to be “black boxes”, which we are just left to contemplate and analyze. Yes, he puts himself in the pictures. Yes, he uses images that we are familiar with, but does he invite us in there? And the dialogue that he thinks these works are creating is more or less the equivalent of someone shouting their question to a field of cows happily grazing away. They may raise their heads but they may not understand and any answer from any one of the cows is a coincidence misinterpreted as “message received”. I am baffled as to why Morimura is currently received as a “contemporary artist” (and a pre-eminent one at that according to JT!) if his methods are seemingly unwise to open networks which would allow people to learn from his methods, rather than his statements.
I understand that Morimura can come across as an Everyman and thereby illustrates that we can all relate to those moments (by however number of links) and even become complicit ourselves in it. But as for making us “look closer at what we cannot always admit about humanity”, the majority of us that recognize this, know that already. The rest that don’t are more than likely to fall victim of the spectacle of him putting himself in these pictures ‘somehow’. Mr. Ben used to perform a similar trick albeit with a changing room, if I remember rightly (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr_Benn).
From a practitioner’s point of view, this is why a combination of the “black box” and spectacle make his works look more like “postmodern mischief” and I use that word without any seriousness to its validity anymore.
I see much art which opens its doors for people to look around and learn from but such art is often lacking a convincing statement to take home. Then on the other hand, we have art which is making a statement but allows you only to look at the pictures put up in the window (or changing room).
Why can’t art do both?
Amy Fox
2010-04-04
thank you for reading it!
there are some really interesting points here.
I enjoyed the exhibition, and it provides paths for us to revaluate and remember, and also, as you said Will, to recognise the darker side of humanity, that in fact, as humans, we are all perhaps capable of unspeakable things.
However, (and you could argue to the extreme that all art is making a political statement in someway, as it is a product of a specific time place etc). Morimura has removed the art from this context, but it is again a product of him.But yet he gives no specific statement. What I think I am trying to say, is that he has made a specific point by removing the art from its original context, and I think I agree with Gary, in that it is Naive of him to say that by doing this he is only suggesting that A could be B. ……and that it carries no message.
In perhaps too simple terms, he has filled two floors of an exhibition with reconstructed pictures of dictators and hugely influential figures from the past 100 years, and yet he says that he does not choose an particular political statement.
It would be perhaps correct to say that style has triumphed over substance, and it is easy for him to say he has no particular political statement, that his purpose is to pay homage, remember and reconstruct, but with no particular message.
For an exhibition of such magnitude, I feel this is a little weak.
As you said Gary, it seems like a man lost, whilst he has perfected this technique, it seems a little vague to do something this epic, yet have no clear statement behind it.
Actually, I went to the exhibition twice. The first time I felt completely overloaded , there is so much to take in, and I left feeling baffled about what he was trying to say.
The second time, I clearly understood his purpose of asking us to recognise (again as Will mentioned) the darker side of humanity, to remember, and various points regarding the subjective nature of sending/receiving of media images.
However , whilst this is fine, and it is of course it is essential that art opens doors for us to contemplate and learn, but also, especially in an exhibition of this nature, it is important to a make a statement. When it is lacking in this , you do tend to feel that it is more style over substance.
Gary McLeod
2010-04-04
Hi Amy,
Thanks for your comments. I’d just like to clarify something though. Maybe I didn’t explain it well.
“it is Naive of him to say that by doing this he is only suggesting that A could be B. ……and that it carries no message”
I think Morimura’s point was that Art is A and also B at the same time and my point is that he is naive because he neglects that many things are A and also B. Not only Art. He puts it somewhat on a pedestal.
I would have thought Morimura is making a statement in this show, but it sounds staged and my problem is that we (and I mean everyone) is not privy to the process of how he is arriving at that statement. It doesn’t make his statement weak or strong as such, but it does make it ineffective in terms of having a dialogue with it.
I will try to see this particular show at some point but from his words in the interview with JT and knowing of his previous works, I think his works generally don’t do what he would like them to do. It is a high profile exhibition as you said but sadly he isn’t an artist in-touch.
William will probably blow me out of the water now with a brilliant quote and reservoir of knowledge
Gary
Amy Fox
2010-04-04
sorry, yes , art can be A and B simultaneously,
I see your point and I think I can agree, ….I think I don’t mean that his statement is weak as such, but that as you said, its not clear the process behind arriving at this point, and it seemed to me rather muddled and heavy, and makes him appear lost, and you cannot interact with his statement well.
For such a high profile exhibition, it didn’t impact upon me as I felt it should, and I didn’t feel I had something solid to take home.
On a more simple, I felt there was too much,such a large exhibition …without something solid behind it.
apologies for slightly confused response, …I have tonsillitis,
Amy Fox
2010-04-04
and I’d be interested to know your thoughts after you have seen it!
Gary McLeod
2010-04-05
Sorry to hear you have tonsillitis. That’s awful.
I went to the Crossings show at the Mori last night and saw the Morimura piece there (“A Requiem: Laugh at the Dictator”). I was certainly hooked by his claim that we are all dictators as this relates to my own research and directly intervenes/interferes with Zygmunt Bauman’s idea that we are all artists. The Mori is an interesting place because all kinds of people go there and although this piece does connect with contemporary issues (I’ll eat my words there), it doesn’t connect with people in a contemporary way. Seeing people not sit for very long to watch it, or even just walk past it, was what I meant by Morimura’s statements being like shouting questions to a field of cattle.
This being his only piece in the Crossings show, serves to make his point more concise, yet there is a whole “sensation” aspect to it. His piece was very much upstaged by Kato Tsubasa in its observations of society and dialogue with people.
Have you seen the Crossing show?
Take care and I hope you get well soon.