Smiling flower, mushroom bomb, zombie: What do Takashi Murakami's grotesquely 'kawaii' creatures tell us?

Japanese art star Takashi Murakami poses for a photo during a press preview held to mark the opening of his largest retrospective to date in Korea, "Takashi Murakami: MurakamiZombie," at the Busan Museum of Art, Jan. 26. Yonhap

Art star delves into Japan's 'otaku' cultural mindset, transience of human life

By Park Han-sol

BUSAN ― What completed Japanese art star Takashi Murakami's already colorful look of the day on Jan. 26 as he appeared in the southern port city of Busan was his comically large headdress.

A pink plush toy in the shape of Kurage-bo ― a creepily endearing jellyfish boy designed by the artist for his directorial debut "Jellyfish Eyes" ― resting atop his graying head already offered a hint of what was about to unfold inside his largest retrospective to date in Korea.

"Takashi Murakami: MurakamiZombie," mounted at the Busan Museum of Art, spans over 30 years of the artist's career, better defined as a merry mix of the grotesque and the "kawaii" ("lovable" or "cute" in Japanese). The survey brings in some 160 paintings, sculptures, installations and films ― including a series of his never-before-seen early works ― that catapulted him to stardom.

The 60-year-old, who grew up immersed in the geeky "otaku" subculture that saw a boom in post-World War II Japan, became an international icon for freely borrowing gaudy elements of anime and manga and thrusting them into the realm of high art.

As a founder of the multifaceted art movement, "Superflat," he has obliterated ― or flattened ― the distinction between high art and commercial pop culture and also the gap between the historical and the contemporary.

For instance, "Mr. DOB," one of Murakami's signature characters and alter ego, draws inspiration from several iconic animated figures such as Doraemon, Sonic the Hedgehog and Mickey Mouse. His other trademark is a constellation of grinning flowers, which comes from his studies of tradition-based Japanese-style paintings, "Nihonga," but is much more reminiscent of the smiley face emoji.

And his most expensive artwork ever auctioned off is "My Lonesome Cowboy," an anime-inspired sculpture of a spiky golden-haired male in the throes of ejaculating a lasso of cartoon semen that fetched a whopping $15.2 million in 2008.

"I believe that creators like Yoshitomo Nara and I have contributed to lowering the barrier for what qualifies as contemporary art. Some would voice criticism that we created a rather undesirable environment, but I think it's ultimately up to the viewers to decide whether they like ― and need ― works like mine," the artist said during a press preview held at the museum.

Beneath his work's cartoonish and jocular surface lies an astute commentary on Japan's modern history marked by disasters ― notably, the 1945 atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki ― and how it came to affect the country's distinct cultural mindset.

The artist has long argued that Japan experienced an "infantilization" as it grappled with the Western occupation in the immediate aftermath of its crushing loss in World War II. As the nation was eclipsed economically and politically by the U.S. intervention, its impotence manifested in its popular culture that obsessively celebrated ― sometimes, in a hypersexualized manner ― non-threatening, immature and therefore kawaii elements, he said.

"Your (Murakami's) oeuvre appears to be cheerful, humorous and flamboyant at first glance, but it hides a razor-sharp (societal) critique that warrants a second look," wrote Korea's celebrated minimalist master Lee Ufan in his letter to his Japanese counterpart last year. "As a parody that is both kitschy and cynical, it never fails to captivate the audience."

While Murakami's art continued to explore the historical atom-bomb trauma through the sickeningly kawaii aesthetics ― including a playful rendering of a mushroom cloud in "Vapor Trail" and "Tan Tan Bo," a reimagined "Mr. DOB" as a delirious, vomiting creature ― the turning point came in 2011 when his country experienced yet another life-altering catastrophe.

The Tohoku mega-earthquake and the subsequent Fukushima nuclear disaster, which killed nearly 16,000, weren't the calamities that he came across in history textbooks; they were catastrophes that unfurled before his very eyes.

"In situations like war or man-made disasters, there's always someone against whom you can hold a grudge. But in natural disasters, there's no one to blame. It becomes so distressing for people that they need to come up with a new fictional narrative that can shed some light on the circumstance to find comfort," he said.

"I realized that such a role can be played by religion. But I also realized the power of the story itself. And that's when I decided I wanted to produce more story-based art."

Accordingly, his pieces created in response to one of the most devastating calamities in contemporary Japan include "Red Demon and Blue Demon with 48 Arhats," a spiritual portrayal of the two guardians of hell and arhats, or Buddhist saints who have reached a state of enlightenment.

And at his Busan show, Murakami further muses on the fragility and transience of human life in the face of disaster ― an idea encapsulated in the Japanese idiom "mono no aware" ― this time, by turning himself into a zombie.

A close-up view of Takashi Murakami's "Murakami Zombie w/ Pom Zombie" (2022) installed at the Busan Museum of Art / Newsis

The hyperrealistic installation, "Murakami Zombie w/ Pom Zombie," which took him about six years to complete, features the artist and his dog as the bloodied undead with their skin peeling off and bowels ripped out. In his eyes, the piece is a visceral reminder of humankind's greatest fear but, at the same time, it can be an ironic source of solace.

"As humans, we harbor a fear of various phenomena ― diseases, natural disasters, wars, etc. I believe that such horror materializes in the form of monsters, demons and the undead in our culture," he noted. "So whether we enjoy looking at these creatures or not, I think we all can sympathize with each other and acknowledge together where our feelings of unease come from."

"MurakamiZombie" runs through March 12 at the Busan Museum of Art. Admission is free.

Takashi Murakami's "Homage to Francis Bacon (Study for Head of Isabel Rawsthorne and George Dyer (on light ground))" (2017). ⓒ2017 Takashi Murakami/Kaikai Kiki Co., Ltd. All Rights Reserved. Courtesy of the artist, Perrotin