Growing up in an extremely toxic, though affluent, family in Japan, Kusama began experiencing hallucinations from a very young age where inanimate objects, such as pumpkins, would speak to her and a single pattern would engulf everything around her. Speaking of these impactful experiences, Kusama says, “I felt as if I had begun to self-obliterate, to revolve in the infinity of endless time and the absoluteness of space, and be reduced to nothingness." Since the hallucinations began, Kusama has dealt and processed them by painting what she sees immediately after, giving her the ability to fit her unique experience into reality. Kusama has struggled with these episodes throughout her whole life and artistic career, and after moving back to Japan after time living in the New York City art scene, she admitted herself to a mental hospital where she has been living for the past 4 decades, with her studio only a few blocks away.
These neurosis-caused hallucinations can be explained as “an early, primitive system of thought that was drive laden and not subject to rules of logic or oriented to reality,” what Freud identifies as primary process thought. Russ’ research extends this concept and links it to the creativity of people with psychotic disorders. This fluidity of associations, images, and emotions can make the discovery of new combinations and interpretations of mental elements more likely. This could lead to a theory about how Kusama’s creative spurts are most often immediately after a hallucination of hers.
Her post-episodic paintings were originally singular, abstract forms which then evolved into the obsessive, detailed, repetitive works that defined her career. She called these monochromatic canvases of repetitive small dots or crescents her “Infinity Nets” that appear to have the ability to extend forever if not for the edge of the canvas.
This same motif of the hypnotic, uncomfortable feeling of infinity plays directly into her arguably most currently known pieces of art that have been traveling the world in recent decades, the immersive “Infinity Mirror Rooms”. I had the opportunity to see and experience these Infinity Mirrors at the Seattle Art Museum a few years ago. Kusama creates small chamber-like rooms completely lined with mirrors and filled with various objects and lights, such as polka dotted pumpkins, phallic objects, and lights. The viewer steps into the room where the door is then closed, being completely immersed in a seemingly infinite room filled with repeated patterns of these objects with oneself integrated within them. It is a surreal experience to see yourself in a void of pulsing lights extending seemingly forever and to know that this is a reality Kusama, and others, have experienced in their every-day life.
I love Kusama and her playful yet slightly disturbing work. It's interesting how something like a traumatic childhood can lead to the creation of such fun, bright, and pleasing pieces of art-- yet there's still that element of discomfort, especially with the phallic objects. I like how you connected her hallucinations to Freud's idea of primary process thought. Also, super jealous that you got to see some of her work in real life!
ReplyDeleteIn the middle of a comedy special I watched once, a serious point emerged on the link between mental illness and creativity. The comedian recalled a discussion she had had once about Vincent Van Gogh, and the effect that his mental illness and its subsequent treatment had on the artist's work. A man had asked her why she took anti-depressants as they must dull her creative work, Van Gogh was a tortured man and look at the beauty he was able to create, the man argued. What he didn't know was that the artist was able to create some of his best work when his illness was being treated with the equivalent of anti-depressants of the time. Kusama lives in a mental health facility and is able to get the help she needs so that she a) can improve the quality of her life and b) can have the mental freedom to be able to create her amazing masterpieces. I love her story because she really shows that artist's with mental illness don't need to choose between their creativity and mental stability, but rather as the former improves the freedom to express the latter increases.
ReplyDeleteThe last picture is amazing! I wish I could be in that room. I think the discomfort of the void is part of what makes it so intriguing. Similar to the repetitive pattern that is not exact is some of her other works, the discomfort draws you in while the repition keep your eyes moving. I am loving this intersection of mental health and creativity because of the negative stigma it is breaking. She even lives in a mental hospital and is able to continue her expressive, colorful work, whereas usually people believe they are shut out from the world once they get a mental health diagnosis. I also love that her own personal style is as loud and eccentric as her products.
ReplyDeleteIt's very interesting to see how creative processes can be outlets for coping with disability. Creating things can be an incredibly comforting, almost grounding experience. It is also interesting to see how creativity changes over time as diseases progress. It would be eye opening to see a timeline of Kusama's work compared to the progression of her disease, much like we've seen with the example in class.
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