The Grotesque and the Beautiful
Step into the Gagosian Gallery and you’re stepping into a unique world of Takashi Murakami’s making. You begin your journey by walking down one of the Gagosian’s minimalistic white corridors, a plainness that turns the spotlight on Murakami’s splashes of color and works of grandeur. The aptly named “In the Land of the Dead, Stepping on the Tail of a Rainbow” exhibit is full of bright and bold pieces that hint at darker things underneath their surfaces. For an exhibit on the smaller side, it truly packs a punch and leaves you wishing it spanned dozens of seemingly endless rooms instead of a meek four or five. However, the sparseness does allow the pieces that Murakami has chosen to display to invoke a blend of amazement and pensiveness in the gallery-goers and allow them to soak in the art rather than look at their watches.
The inspiration for Murakami’s work came after the Great Tohoku Earthquake and Tsunami of 2011. Underneath a colorful veneer complete with sparkly finishes, Murakami’s art depicts Japanese natural disasters and imagery associated with that of death and destruction. Peer beyond the rainbow colors and you find the hollow eyes of corpses staring back at you. Gazing at the art, the viewer can recognize recurring motifs including skulls, flower, and religious symbols. His work also blends together the traditional and the modern, with manga and other pop culture references mixed in with religious and historical Japanese iconography. The work has a very Andy Warhol-esque vibe but it should not be typified only as such. Murakami has a truly distinct style that is full of contrast and juxtaposition.
Upon entering, the first thing you spot it a battered and broken Japanese temple and situated it behind it is a painting of skulls stacked on top of one another. Right through the entryway of the temple, the skulls—shaded black but surrounded by color—act as an imposing force. Both pieces stand strong on their own, but the mood they create together after having been aligned accordingly sets the tone for the entire exhibit. Any adjective under the sun can be running through your head at that moment, but you cannot deny that the work has you thinking, so right off the bat Murakami’s job is a success.
The very first room I entered was quite small and had one large piece in the center of it and four works of art hanging on the walls. “HOLLOW” two of them proclaim, the word graffitied onto colorful images of skulls and smiling–yes, smiling–flowers. On the opposite wall the pieces scream out “DEATH HATE I” over the same type of imagery. In the center is a large sculpture of an unidentifiable creature, grinning at each person who walks by. It is a lot of emotions contained in such a small space, but it acts as a good introduction to the rest of the exhibit. Each room follows in the same pattern: it contains a sculpture that acts as the statement piece and supporting works of art hanging on the walls, giving the viewer a different experience as they progress throughout the gallery.
The second room is where the traditional truly crashes with the modern. The destroyed Japanese temple sets off the theme of religion that Murakami crafted carefully into each piece. Two tall and overbearing statues stand off to the side, one a red demon and the other a blue one, standing on the bodies of helpless creatures with a club grasped in their hand. The statues are a cacophony of colors and themes and require of you a three hundred sixty degree walk to spot all the details. The glitter in the clubs reflects the overhead lights, the toenails of each demon shine with different rainbow colors, and kneel down and peer at the pedestal because each panel has a different depiction of ancient Japanese art involving roaring tidal waves.
Turn next to the large painting spanning the entire back wall. Each panel is seamlessly connected with one another to take you on a journey through Japanese history. Take your time to stroll down the length of the room and admire the artistry that went into each wave, the boat being attacked by a water dragon, the bright and abstract creatures, and down to the kimonos all the people are wearing. A true story is told no matter which side of the room you start from. The next two rooms are much more simplistic, and yet you will find yourself staring at the artwork for a while, marveling at how intricate all the pieces are.
All of the pieces in the exhibit make you stop and observe rather than just walk right on by. There is pain and anguish lurking behind the beauty that makes the work enticing due to morbid fascination as well as pure aesthetic. The work is, to put it simply, grotesque and beautiful all at the same time, though I do not believe the two have to be mutually exclusive. What the work requires of you is to let go of reality while simultaneously recognizing the true harshness of it. Considering the works have titles such as “Fluctuations In Space-Time” and “Invoking the Vitality of a Universe Beyond Imagination,” it is clear that Murakami is asking you to suspend your disbelief. Yet the emotions behind the work ring loud and clear and cannot be ignored. Murakami may be creating a fantasy world, but even there you cannot escape the clutches of death.
