The time I went to the National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo after studying art history and had way too much fun

For the past month, I have been studying for the Art Certification Exam. Before I studied art history, museums were just places I went to if they had an interesting special exhibition. I've always liked art quite a bit; as a child, I begged my parents to take me to a Surrealism exhibition, and as an adult, I've visited special exhibitions for artists I'm interested in, such as Andy Warhol, Marcel Duchamp, Damien Hirst, Piet Mondrian, and Giorgio de Chirico. On the other hand, I used to think of permanent collections as just an afterthought, and they never really clicked with me even when I visited them.

However, studying art history makes you realize that you can easily view works you've seen in textbooks right here in Tokyo. And in the permanent collection, no less. Of course, since museums only display a fraction of their vast holdings, there are times you won't see certain pieces, but the chances of encountering famous works are high.

The other day, I visited the Tokyo National Museum and enjoyed the differences between Nabeshima ware and Imari ware, was captivated by the jet-black color of the tea utensils by Chojiro, Sen no Rikyu's partner, and was overwhelmed by the figure of the shamisen player in Kobayashi Mango's "Kadotsuke", a disciple of Kuroda Seiki and one of the first members of the Hakubakai, who looked as if he were about to start moving at any moment.

While I was enjoying myself so much that I reported on it in a video stream the next day, I learned that Fukuda Heihachiro's "Rain" could be viewed at the National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo. At first glance, this work looks like a painting of realistic roof tiles, but if you look closely, you notice the traces of raindrops, making it a unique piece.

Recently, at a solo exhibition titled "Rain-Spinning" held by the VTuber and illustrator Ui Shigure, I was drawn into the expression of "rain" using processing that makes one conscious of layers, which made me want to see Fukuda Heihachiro's work.

So, I went to the National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo over the weekend, but unfortunately, Fukuda Heihachiro's "Rain" was not there. On the other hand, I was surprised to find many unexpected major works. Some of the works on display were by artists I only knew as strings of text in textbooks or problem sets, which was a great learning experience. I'll write a little about them as a note to myself.

1. Are ballpoint pens prohibited in museums?

Nothing was said at the Tokyo National Museum, but when I was taking notes inside the museum, a curator warned me. Apparently, ballpoint pens are not allowed. I borrowed a pencil and walked around the first floor. You can see not only Japanese paintings, including early works by Yayoi Kusama, but also works by famous Western painters. First, I found a work by Georges Braque, a representative of Cubism alongside Pablo Picasso. Braque originally participated in the Fauvism movement, but after being shocked by the Cezanne retrospective and Picasso's "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon," he began to explore Cubism. "Woman's Torso" is a work composed of geometric elements such as rectangles, trapezoids, and semicircles, and in the composition, which looks like someone did glitch noise by hand, you can catch a glimpse of something like a woman's body. Although "torso" refers to the part of the human body excluding the limbs, things that look like a woman's head or a stringed instrument emerge.

There are many works on this floor that make you conscious of composition. For example, in Paul Klee's "Mountain Impulse", you can feel the traces of the Holocaust from the train and the reclining person. Also, in Paul Cezanne's "Large Bouquet", the vase sitting on the table is the main subject, but as an element that gives a sense of movement despite being a still life, there is the presence of a cloth that looks like it's about to slip off. I feel like cloths that are about to slip off are often depicted in still lifes. I thought that when capturing stationary objects, placing a cloth as a suspenseful element—hanging in the balance of whether it will fall or not—might have the effect of bringing movement to the painting. From Oskar Kokoschka, who became romantically involved with Alma, the wife of Gustav Mahler after his death, and painted her portrait, one can feel a technique close to sfumato, known for the smile in the "Mona Lisa."

2. A grand gathering of Surrealism and abstract painting

2024 marks the 100th anniversary of the poet Andre Breton publishing "The Surrealist Manifesto". In the film industry, the "Surrealism 100th Anniversary Film Festival" was held at Eurospace, screening Luis Bunuel's "The Exterminating Angel," Germaine Dulac's "The Seashell and the Clergyman," and Hans Richter's "Dreams That Money Can Buy".

Hans Richter is connected to the National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo. The museum has a recreation booth of the Japanese-American Abstract Art Exhibition (1955). There, you can see his "Orchestration of Color". It's just a row of primary-colored objects like red, yellow, and green, but the green squares that gradually get larger bring a rhythm to the whole piece.

Abstract Art between Japan and the United States (1955) was an exhibition born from Saburo Hasegawa's request for submissions to the American Abstract Artists (AAA). The National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo, recreated the atmosphere of that time and provided a booth where visitors could learn about the history and how to enjoy difficult abstract paintings.

Also, as it is the 100th anniversary of Surrealism, the museum is showcasing Western and Japanese Surrealist works together. I viewed Joan Miró's work, "Painting-Poem (Oh! That person, he did it)", which is said to represent a "fart." I wonder if the vertically oriented wavy lines represent the flatulence?

Since I started studying for the Art Certification Exam, I have been reading the museum's descriptions thoroughly. I was excited to see terms I had seen in textbooks used in the description of Max Ernst, such as "decalcomania", where paint is dripped onto paper and pressed onto another sheet, and "frottage", where paper is pressed against a textured surface and rubbed. I am truly experiencing the Aha! effect.

From Japan, first, Ichiro Fukuzawa's "Poisson d'Avril (April Fool)" was on display. I wondered, "April fish? What could that be?" and found out it is the French term for April Fool's Day. It is a work influenced by Max Ernst's Surrealist novel "The Hundred Headless Woman" and cites imagery from the French children's book "Fun Science." Multiple figures are performing meaningful-looking actions, but they appear meaningless. I have heard the saying, "Science looks like magic to those who do not know it," but in this case, it seems to be satirizing it as "Science looks like eccentric behavior to those who do not know it."

After World War II, during the process of reconstruction and economic recovery, Noboru Kitawaki's "Quo Vadis" became famous as an expression of the loss of identity and confusion in an open world, but from a Surrealist perspective, his "Dokatsu" was featured. There are two trees standing that look like humans. One of them is upside down. It is a space that feels like a landscape of shadows, tree stumps, and endlessly spreading waterside or land. It is a quintessential Surrealist work, similar to those by Giorgio de Chirico and Salvador Dalí, and it is a piece that manifests the anxiety in the unconscious.

3. It was huge!? "Meeting of Generals Yamashita and Percival"

In the post I uploaded the other day, "On Media Strategy in Art History," I talked about the aspect of paintings being used as propaganda. The same can be said for Japan during World War II, where the government had painters like Tsuguharu Foujita and Saburo Miyamoto paint war pictures for the purpose of documentation and boosting morale. The National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo, exhibits their war paintings, and it included "Meeting of Generals Yamashita and Percival," which had its composition explained in "Continued: Basics of Western and Japanese Art History." This depicts the situation where Tomoyuki Yamashita, the Tiger of Malaya, conquered Singapore and forced the British commander Percival to surrender. As a work celebrating the great victory of the Japanese military, it is also large in size. The intimidating, all-black Japanese military and the British military, whose backs speak of their frustration, are in a relationship of contrast. Next to it was Tsuguharu Foujita's "Bloody Battle at Guadalcanal," which was also a very powerful piece. Because his war paintings are drawn in very dark tones, they look more vivid when seen in person than on the web or in texts. I was overwhelmed by the soldiers in agony and the rough depiction of nature that emerge as you stare into the darkness.

4. On Kawara "Date Paintings"

When it comes to conceptual art, it has to be On Kawara's date paintings. He paints with a single color and draws the date in white letters on top. It is a simple work that carves out proof of having lived on that day. This can be seen at the National Museum of Modern Art. Usually, when you see a painting in person, your understanding of the texture of the brushstrokes deepens. However, On Kawara's "Date Paintings" are painted so carefully that they give the impression of being mass-produced goods. By seeing them in person, I keenly felt that the emphasis is placed on the outside of the material rather than the material itself. He is strongly associated with date paintings, but of course, he has other works. "Pregnant Woman," where scattered human bodies float in a space reminiscent of the movie 'CUBE,' was intense.

There was an impressive work by another artist on the same floor, so I will post it here.

5. Feminism x Video Art

■ Martha Rosler, 'Semiotics of the Kitchen'

There was an exhibition on feminism and video art at the special exhibition, so I watched two pieces. The first one is Martha Rosler's 'Semiotics of the Kitchen'. In this work, a woman repeatedly calls out words like spoon, knife, and apron. Amidst the popularity of cooking shows by female culinary experts in 1970s America, it critically depicts the association between 'women' and 'cooking.' It expresses a sense of discomfort through the decomposition of kitchen utensils into word levels and the woman's movements as she puts them on or uses them in bizarre ways.

I suddenly remembered 'Pop-Up Computer'. 'Pop-Up Computer' is a PC game created in 1994 by graphic designer Gento Matsumoto. It is a stylish piece of software that fuses the physical movement of a pop-up book with the digital movements of a computer. There is a chapter called 'Kitchen' in it. A monkey brings out kitchen utensils to cheerful music, but the situation gradually develops into something dangerous. Since the scenes where an ice pick and a meat tenderizer appear match, it can be inferred that Gento Matsumoto was inspired by this work.

■ Dara Birnbaum, 'Technology/Transformation: Wonder Woman'

Another interesting piece was Dara Birnbaum's 'Technology/Transformation: Wonder Woman', which can be considered a precursor to MAD videos using the 'Wonder Woman' television series.

Wonder Woman's transformation motion is obsessively repeated, and she doesn't transform for a long time. Her action is persistently delayed, and she eventually scatters in an explosion. And in the end credits, lyrics are displayed instead of the actors' names.

Recently, the Romanian genius Radu Jude has been trying to critique society with a style reminiscent of clip videos, but it seems that in the context of feminist film, this was already being practiced in the 70s. I forgot to read the explanatory text, but I felt that it might be expressing how, in reality, female heroines in fiction find it difficult to play an active role due to various obstacles, and that even their hard-won achievements are wiped out by spectacle (the explosion in this work is likely a metaphor).

6. Conclusion

When you visit an art museum after studying art history, a new world opens up. Last year, I completed a project to watch all '1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die', which had been a long-held dream of mine, and I was feeling a lack of fulfillment in my hobbies, but I am living a fulfilling life now that I am exploring the new field of art. I still only know the basics of art, but I have decided that I want to get hooked on this rabbit hole.

7. References