London’s Tate Modern is devoting a major retrospective to 91-year-old peace artist Yoko Ono. Her art gently pierces our psyche.
In Yoko Ono’s interactive art, nothing works without a body. Excerpt from “Film No. 4 (Bottoms)” from 1966 Photo: Yoko Ono
People like to be asked. It frees them from their own initiative and usually results in an experience. The artist Yoko Ono comes from Japan. Japanese has its own grammar for making requests: the ‘initiative form’ and the ‘suggestive form’, marked by certain suffixes, reflect the intention to motivate the other person to do something. “Music of the mind”, the large Yoko Ono work exhibition At London’s Tate Gallery of Modern Art, there is an increasingly urgent and familiar call for participation.
It begins with careful directions, the so-called instruction pieces: Yoko Ono’s “Painting to Step On” could almost be overlooked. For this work from her first solo exhibition in 1960/61, she glued a piece of canvas to the floor that you can – consciously or unconsciously – walk over with a large stride, but that you can also step on. How much interaction you have with Ono’s art is a matter of discretion. Yoko Ono makes suggestions, sets no conditions. The only requirement is that the body is involved.
“Painting to Shake Hands” already requires a more active participation and clear physical interaction: “Drill a hole in a canvas and put your hand through it from behind. Receive your guests in this way. Shake hands and change hands.”
In addition to the many documents of street art, happenings and performances, the walls of the exhibition spaces are filled with simple and more complicated, imaginative and absurd speeches that Ono typed on small pieces of paper with a typewriter: “Connect a part of your body. If someone asks, make up a story and tell it,” says the “Conversation Piece.” The “Smoke Piece” demands: “Smoke everything you can. Including your pubic hair.”
The artist builds a relationship between himself and the viewer
The visitor in the show, which is externally structured chronologically but in fact follows an emotional approach, becomes accustomed to Ono’s friendly and down-to-earth requests as he moves through the rooms and is always prepared to comply. In this way the artist builds a – temporary but intense – relationship between himself and the viewer. That the of John Lennon was influenced by the traumatized and harsh post-war England That he was immediately enthusiastic about his first encounter with the art of the already successful maker is logical from the point of view of kitchen psychology.
John’s sad relationship with his early deceased mother Julia inspired Ono: The penultimate room houses part of the show “My mummy is beautiful”, which was shown in 1998 at Villa Stuck in Munich and consists of color photographs of a woman’s breast and crotch. In fact, the breasts and vulvas hang from the ceiling like a huge skin-colored memory game, similar to a baby breastfeeding, you look down at the source of food, life and security. Subtly and gently Ono penetrates the psyche and soothes her guests.
At the end of the show there is an invitation to write down thoughts about your mother and pin them on a wall. This is already covered with pieces of paper. Even if you do not want to comply with the request, you will encounter touching, helpless, grateful and in any case very emotional wishes and statements as you walk by. Many visitors shed tears. Perhaps the great artist Yoko Ono will help to treat humanity with her art. This is absolutely necessary.