KUSAMA- INFINITY (The Life and Art of Yayoi Kusama), dir: Heather Lenz, USA, 2018
On Friday evening I was lucky enough to be able to experience a sold-out viewing of ‘Kusama-Infinity’, directed by Heather Lenz (USA, 2018) at the intimate and magical little Cube cinema in Bristol. When I booked tickets for the screening I was curious to learn more about the life of Yayoi Kusama, an artist of Japanese origin whose work I was previously familiar with, and fond of. However, I wasn’t anticipating the concoction of thoughts and emotions that the documentary left me with after the short 78 minutes of footage had ended.
I feel it would be appropriate to start by saying a little about the Cube Cinema because I feel that my reception of the documentary was enhanced by the broader experience of visiting the venue, as a small independent cinema that fosters a love for films that show humans at their most human; whether it’s an international film, documentary, independent film or a vintage film which they thought deserved a re-run. The monthly schedule of the Cube is curated with care, making it seem more appropriate to talk about as a venue that celebrates the ‘arts’ than commercial cinemas which show anything with a high enough budget and all-star cast. Put simply, visiting The Cube reminded me that watching a film with a small group of people can be a sacred art experience.
Infinity explored Kusama’s life, from her conservative upbringing in rural Japan to her passion-fuelled run from Japan to America following the end of WW2; a time when Kusama had no choice but to risk her life by smuggling money into New York by sewing it into her kimono. Kusama discarded of her family life with the intention of devoting her life to making art and the ambition to become a famous artist. The film was deeply moving in the way that we got to hear of Kusama’s struggles as a female artist of ethnic minority in New York, who could speak very little English but remained resilient and pushed her way through to the public’s attention where she used her art to open up post-war dialogues and protests.
Through aesthetic analysis and discussions with the artist, Heather Lenz emphasises the illuminative power of art historical analysis when trying to answer questions concerning human nature and how to harness the material of happiness. Scanning over the sea of heads in the dark of the cinema, I remember thinking that everyone seemed to be engulfed in Kusama’s stories of her life, eagerly listening in case they might learn something that could be applied to their own life.
It was one of the quietest cinema screenings I’ve ever been to. The experience was meaningful to me in a number of ways… on the most basic level, as an art historian I now have a deeper understanding of what it would have been like to operate in a foreign country as an artist from two intersecting minorities. However, I feel that the essence of the film’s beauty lies in the way that Kusama is able to impart a message to the audience regarding the ability of art to act as a signifier for what we truly need to be happy. This type of gentle reminder is becoming ever more important as the world continues to expand with material luxuries, often making us forget or take for granted things which have been there all along.