Yayoi Kusama – Aftermath of Obliteration of Eternity

Me and Dylan in the exhibit.

Life is what I always try to understand—its depths and its mystique of rise and fall. I struggle for it throughout my life. From day to day, I understand the greatness brought by this mystique as well as that love is eternal and keeps appearing and disappearing. And what is more, I am very pleased to be alive after realizing that I have overcome this everyday life and been able to reach today. Yet we keep flashing, disappearing, and again blossoming out in this Eternity.
Yayoi Kusama

Ron Mueck

Rebecca and I went to the Fort Worth Museum of Modern Art today. The big exhibit was new works by Ron Mueck. He creates these incredibly detailed and lifelike sculptures (mostly of people) that are either much smaller or much larger than the real thing.

I was only vaguely familiar with his work — as in it’s likely I skimmed this blog post once. Seeing it in person though was exhilarating. And the center piece, Couple under an Umbrella (2013), made me smile, and hopeful and happy. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Here are a few other photos from the exhibit.

St. Vincent

St. Vincent’s self-titled 2014 album has the kind of cover that would have stopped me in my tracks in a record shop as a teenager. It’s the kind of cover that looks so cool the music has to be interesting at the very least. Back then (mid 80s), sometimes that was about all you had to go on. If you were lucky maybe someone said they heard that it was good or you caught a song at a club. Plunking down eight bucks on a record was often a roll of the dice. A great album cover though was a huge signal. Joy Division and New Order’s great Peter Saville covers persuaded me to buy both at the same time.

St. Vincent came to me via a 2014 version of this. “Digital Witness” showed up in someone’s playlist that I was streaming and that album cover got me. I listened to it on repeat for months.

Later that year Rebecca and I saw her in concert twice. The things that struck me right away were the rehearsed gestures in her performance.

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I recognized them right away as akin to the gestural/ritual movement popular in the performance art world (at least the one I was a part of in the 90s). One of the first shows I was in was a movement piece about gay men dealing with AIDS. We had a whole section derived from a morning routine in front of a mirror and another one around bathing.

All of this goes to say that I was really excited to see her new show this past Thursday and I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was just her on stage the whole time (somehow I didn’t read a review of the tour beforehand). The set consisted of curtains and lights revealing more and more of an empty stage.

After a quick blackout and costume change, she performed her latest album front to back in front of a video screen with colors and images from her new album artwork and videos. At one point a woman came out in a complete costume just to hand her another guitar (her own design). It reminded me of the time our stage manager swept the stage before the show each night, dressed in a nurse’s uniform.

Anyway, the point of all of this is that I thought this was the perfect distillation of what she’s been working towards over the last few years. It was a beautiful, singular statement — risky and bold. Apparently, this was also a bit divisive but like that article concludes, “The truth is that it was a total triumph.” And I didn’t miss the band. She’s such a bad ass with that guitar, that’s all you need.

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