Yayoi Kusama, My Eternal Soul. Tokyo 2017

 

Following on from seeing her work in London last year, I was fortunate to visit this beautiful retrospective of Yayoi Kusama’s work in Tokyo recently. I haven’t blogged much recently, I’m struggling with my words. So today I share hers. In the entrance to the museum, a humble introduction to her life, her beautiful prose, like an epitaph, it set me up for the exhibition, to cherish every moment, from the giant colourful hall filled with 400 pieces of her work, milling with adults and children running around in awe and excitement, to the smaller galleries covering every decade of her long life. It struck me then, how we don’t have her for long. And as I read I felt sad how we live in a world of such rage and turmoil, where parents bury their children and the wise are shouted down. She’s fragile, a vulnerability pervades her. But she has led such a full life and planted seeds of gentle inspiration in many. There’s always hope.

“Message

Today’s world is marked by heightened anxiety connected to ever growing strife between nations and individuals, and to elusive prospects for peace. In the midst of such turmoil, we must, as human beings, be ever more vigilant and determined to build a better world through strengthened cooperation.

I have always been dedicated to my art, struggling day and night to create it. I intend to continue creating works of art as long as my heart keeps beating. I hope my fervent efforts might live on through those who view my art even after I am gone. my greatest desire is that my vision of a future of eternal harmony among people can be carried on.

In more than 70 years as an artist, I have always been in awe of the wonder of life. More than anything, this strong sense of the life force in artistic expression is what supported me and gave me power to overcome feelings of depression, hopelessness and sadness.

I have been guided by my belief in this power.

I am profoundly gratified that I have always had the fortitude to live with the unwavering dedication through the vicissitudes of my life’s long journey.

I believe that my mentality as an artist has sustained me throughout.

The creation of art is a solitary pursuit.

As an artist, I am committed to sharing my passion and inspiration. I wish to convey my message widely and I intend to continue my struggle until I leave this earth.

There is no greater pleasure for me than to imagine that my creative spirit, my expectations for art and my passion, may be felt even after I am gone.

I deeply hope that the life I have led and the ideals and worldview I have advocated might help the young people of today, and generations to come, create a world where spiritual and material suffering in human life can be overcome. This is my sincere wish.

The struggle is endless

I want to creat more innovative works

I am sleepless thinking about that

Thoughts of creating are yearning for the unknown

I want to pursue my struggle as an avant-garde artist

Until I expire

 

My heartfelt gratitude to all who have supported me in my life as an artist.”

Yayoi Kusama, Avant-Garde Artist.

Bletchley Park’s Vintage Toys

Bletchley Park is a wonderful place, the home of the code breakers and now rightly being given the funding it deserves to renovate and improve. On the same site, the National Museum of Computing, full of nostalgia and vintage functioning computers and equipment, including a magnificent rebuild of Colossus.

But, one potentially overlooked exhibit is the wonderfully nostalgic Toy museum. There are an abundance of toys and games (e.g. original meccano), clothing and ornaments, wartime propaganda and toys, austerely made - “Make and Mend”.

What really caught my eye was the dolls.

There was something haunted about them, sometimes they were sinister. Maybe the decades without the love of a child has slowly emptied them. Perhaps a hug will make them glow again.

Decide for yourself, a selection of photos I took with my iphone. (all photos © Mel Melis – all exhibits hosted at Bletchley Park – reproduced without seeking financial gain)

This poor doll sat staring from her pram, looking up into space. She never cries.

Mamma bear’s gonna mess you up.

They’re waiting, they’re watching in the cabinet.

Strange, none of them seemed to be smiling.

And when they do smile, it’s hiding some terrible tragedy. I imagined this clown was visiting the grave of his wife.

Did she chew those bear ears off? Is she still hungry? The bears have been injected with a paralysis venom. She can take her time to consume them.

Scary. Atomic Kitten 1940.

This little lad has seen terrible things. I hope that’s not a garrotte.

An angry gnome (or an Amish farmer forced to wear tartan). Something simmers behind those eyes.

Devil soup

Just faces. Peeled off faces. No biggie.

This embryo terrified me.

Needle toothed golly, hung out to dry.

She made me want to cry!

The furious death stare.

A fragile girl. Fractured.

This made me laugh, he’s a bloody lipped vampire yokel

Flaking away

 

* – In all seriousness this is a lovingly preserved collection, the slow bite of time adds to the poignancy of any visit. Go! I implore you! Go to Bletchley Park! You wont regret it.

A Rose in your garden

 

Within the unkempt mat

of last years dead rosehips

brown stranded, thread hanged,

is a sultry rose

pink to its core, each petal an arc of joy,

vivid in the sadness of your time,

--

the rosewood outlives,

thorny, twisted, an old woman’s hand,

cupped to the ear,

waiting to hear the old song,

--

a smile plays on your rose bud mouth,

you hold your breath, watching through the shutters,

waiting for his arrival, his midnight serenade,

….you loved this time of year.

©Mel Melis June 2012

(from mum’s garden)