Noi Sawaragi: Notes on Art and Current Events 32

Painter and ‘counterfeiter’ – On ‘Makoto Aida: Monument for Nothing’ (Part 2)


Aida Makoto – Dog (Snow) (1998), mineral pigments and acrylic on Japanese paper and board, 73 × 100 cm. Photo Kei Miyajima, © Makoto Aida, courtesy Mizuma Art Gallery.

Japanese art is still bogged down by the harmful befuddlement and repetition it experienced at the time of the introduction of Western culture during the Meiji Restoration. In this respect it is almost as if history doesn’t exist. The problem surrounding the “Dog” series at the “Makoto Aida: Monument for Nothing” exhibition is probably related to this. There is a strong tendency for this latest problem to be discussed in connection with recent moves to define more clearly the concept of “child pornography.” But unless we establish to begin with the more fundamental matter of exactly when and how it became commonplace in Japan to regard as socially problematic even images of naked females depicted in pictures as art, regardless of what is being alleged, the debate will inevitably be baseless and fruitless.

Extremely obvious though it may be to most people, it needs to be confirmed afresh that the propensity to make the female (or asexual) naked body the subject of art occupied a central position not only in the art of the ancient Greek and Roman periods upon which Western art is founded, but also in the clay figures and so on of the more remote past, when there was a stronger inclination toward magic. In fact, if depictions of the naked body were excluded completely from the history of either human civilization or Western art, then “art history” itself would be completely meaningless. And if we were to expand the scope of “child pornography” to include drawings or paintings that depict nonentities, such as Bronzino’s An Allegory of Venus and Cupid, for example, then clearly the number of works that would likely become the subject of this discussion would be considerable.


Bronzino An Allegory of Venus and Cupid (c. 1545). Collection the National Gallery, London.

However, because in Japan the introduction of “nudes” in the context of Western art and the raising of awareness of “public order and decency” among the masses took place together during the rapid modernization of the Meiji Restoration, a conspicuous conflict arose between the two. In other words, from the point of view of the former, those among the masses who did not recognize nudes as art were regarded as “unenlightened” people who did not understand art, while from the point of view of the latter, the former were regarded as sinful “pornography” likely to brazenly disturb public order. The many incidents and disputes concerning art and pornography that have occurred in Japan since that time have in effect failed to rise above this level. The trouble concerning the “Dog” series at Makoto Aida’s exhibition has likewise arisen within this deformed circle.

By a curious coincidence, during this same Makoto Aida exhibition there were reports of complaints from residents of the town of Okuizumo in Shimane Prefecture who wanted replicas of nude statues that had been erected in a public park, including those of Michelangelo’s David and the Venus de Milo, to be covered with underpants (1), complaints that were ridiculed by some as showing “a lack of understanding of classical art.” However, such complaints are also in fact not completely without basis. “If one looks at them in that way,” one is bound to feel more than slightly ashamed upon staring at David’s inappropriately exposed male genitalia or the Venus de Milo’s breasts. That is to say, even though these are artworks whose status in the history of Western art is firmly established, they are not entirely lacking in characteristics that contravene the concept of “decency” that is widely adhered to in this country. Why, then, has the public appreciation of such works long been tolerated in the West?

The answer is that, even if the kind of dual nature referred to above does exist, the argument that in the context of human civilization greater importance should be attached to the “artistic merit” these works have that should be passed on to future generations – though it is usually dormant and not expressed openly – is deemed to have overwhelming precedence. Accordingly, the exhibition of such works is not restricted, and in fact they are widely endorsed as objects worthy of appreciation, which is not to say that if in the future there were to be a dramatic shift in the standards by which artistic merit is determined, the acceptance of this situation might not be completely overturned.

Formally speaking, this problem can be resolved using set theory. For example, “if one looks at them in that way,” even works whose classical merits as artworks have been established such as Ingres’ The Turkish Bath and Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Son include elements that are contrary to “public order and decency” (and claims to the effect that “such elements are nonexistent because these are artworks” would be nothing but a meaningless tautology indicative of a mindless faith in art). At the same time, however, these works deal with such subject matter as the lot of sex and the incurability of desire, subject matter that we cannot avoid confronting as long as humans are humans, in a way that neither idly allures nor unilaterally condemns. Rather, making full use of their skills, the artists concerned are able to impose reins on the subject matter having temporarily accepted it as well as objectify it as subject matter able to be reflected on as “art.” In other words, despite the fact that the subject matter is a single item as a physical object, when viewed from the perspective of the recipient it contains elements of both the first set (arousal of desire) and the second set (rational appreciation).


Left: Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres – The Turkish Bath (1862), collection the Louvre. Right: Francisco Goya – Saturn Devouring His Son (1821-23), collection Museo del Prado.

And yet, in the case of these paintings, after lengthy and vigorous historical verification, as things stand we remain at the level where the former opinion can be ignored. However, it is not yet the case that we have not completely reverted to the first set. Ultimately, the exclusion of something as pornography simply means that the inclusion relation concerning the two sets is wrong. Accordingly, even if it represents the tiniest minority opinion, the right to denounce it remains, and if the door for this is not left open, the assessment of art as it stands will naturally drift towards inertia and eventually ossify. It is for this very reason that even in the case of artwork for which it seems as if the historical assessment is determined, on each occasion on which they are brought to our attention as questionable, they need to be widely discussed and the judgment of the majority confirmed.

It goes without saying that in the case of Makoto Aida’s “Dog” series, too, such polarities coexist. What is conclusively different between these works and the paintings of Ingres and Goya mentioned above, however, is that because the amount of time that has elapsed since they were produced is so small, the argument as to which of the two sets with the contradictory qualities of appreciative value as artworks and the ability to arouse sexual desire should be given priority is yet to reach social maturity. In fact, in the realm of contemporary art, where assessments fluctuate constantly like the exchange rate due to the extremely short history of the genre, such a divergence of opinions is almost inevitable.

Indeed, it is for this very reason that there exist art museums as public institutions dedicated to exhibiting contemporary art. Unlike regular museums, it is the role of “contemporary art museums” to provide the opportunity for widespread discussion of contemporary expression whose merits are yet to be completely determined, and in so doing move forward, even if it be little by little, the history of art in existence today. Holding in a public place an exhibition of work by Makoto Aida that is regarded as socially “harmful” means nothing other than not only taking into consideration such ambiguous qualities but also ascertaining the nature of its “merits” as things stand now. However, in the makeshift comments from the Mori Art Museum and their refusal on the part of the curators to even comment in response to these matters, I cannot sense at all any enthusiasm or sense of duty with respect to addressing the fluctuating “merits” of contemporary art. This is extremely regrettable.

Incidentally, my own personal opinion is that, while I can discern in Makoto Aida’s work elements that conflict with “decency” as it is commonly accepted in society, it remains within the bounds of what is legally permissible, and because the emphasis is on artistic “methods” that “symbolize” and objectify such elements as “various designs” as opposed to overtly sexual characteristics that derive from them, their appreciative value takes precedence. (To be continued)

“Aida Makoto: Monument for Nothing” ran from November 17, 2012 to March 31, 2013 at the Mori Art Museum.

 

 

    1. As another example from the past, at the Atopic Site exhibition held at Tokyo Big Sight in 1996, at the behest of the organizers a “diaper” was temporarily placed over the part of Sheree Rose “Boballoon” that resembled an exposed penis. As well, at this Makoto Aida exhibition an “R18 room” was established on the judgment of the organizers, although such zoning is not necessarily a step forward in Japan, given that as early as 1903 there was an exhibition at Ueno where as part of a Hakuba-kai display of all things a “special room” was established for the express purpose of exhibiting nudes. In other words, in Japan the practice of “zoning” has its origins in the classification based on an immature understanding of Western art of nude paintings as pornography and is a “backwards” step rooted in the contradictory dual nature of the country’s modernization. The entrance to this room at the exhibition in Ueno was “concealed with a purple curtain, making it difficult to recognize from the outside.” [See my book

Nihon•Gendai•Bijutsu

    (Japan/Modernity/Art), Shinchosha, 1998, pp 185-186.] Based on their handling (or lack of handling) of the various problems mentioned above, perhaps the “zoning” at the Mori Art Museum should also be understood as an attempt to “cope” with the situation.

Noi Sawaragi: Notes on Art and Current Events 1-6

Copyrighted Image