Yayoi Kusama, Marina Abramovic, and Infinite Dimensions
Yayoi Kusama's Infinity Mirror Rooms was an exhibition I didn't think I'd get a chance to see since tickets had been sold out for the past two years since I'd moved here for university. So when I got an email from Tate that the final round of tickets had gone on sale, I simply checked availability on a whim.
Kusama's work was one which heavily inspired my older brother and 2018 CMP graduate, Milton's own Final Major Project, Inertia. My first memories of the Westminster Harrow campus had been from when helping him build that installation, and later, at his graduate exhibition in Marylebone campus' Ambika P3. At the time, I had no intentions of following his footsteps and pursuing a degree in Contempoary Media, so it's interesting to see how it's come full circle.
The first part of IMR was different from the infinity mirror rooms as I'd known of them, and had more of an impact on me than I'd have anticipated. Yayoi Kusama's Chandelier of Grief (2016) features a chandelier that is "fixed to a rotating mechanism and, combined with its flickering, pulsating lights and the mirrored walls, is intended to create a destabilising yet mesmerising effect."
The experience felt like a direct confrontation with myself. Victoria and I remarked that the visual effect of our infinite reflections surrounding us from different directions felt uncanny. To me, it was a great representation of the concept I'd had on my mind as of late: a space in which one could oversee every version of themselves from their pasts and possbilities. This idea was one that I wanted to incorporporate into our game as part of the overall message.
As for the second room, it was a lot closer to what I expected. However, the pictures I'd seen posted of it were so affected by the infinity effect the space always seemed so much bigger and so I was surprised to find it wasn't. Nevertheless, it was beautiful and the most similar to my vision for the game's potential symbolic dimension space.
Tadej had mentioned to me that what was most effective in tying together our previous year's video game project, Ephemeral, was the final level's "memory garden" --- space where the theme of memory (and connection through sharing of memories) was most evident, and the atmosphere generated by the glittering spheres of voice memo recounts of different participants' memories with the game's emotional instrumental theme (composed by my own younger brother) really came together to convey that nostalgia and sense of community.
Fortunately, I'd already intended to create something similar as is clearly the overarching theme across my work. Many of my songs I visualise as soundtracks to movie montage type reflecting on a series of memories that lead to that point in my life and this project is just an expansion of that.
I don't remember if my vision came first or the phone call from Liam --- either way, my close relationship with my brothers has become increasingly relevant to my work and this project's no different.
After dropping out and moving back home to reevaluate what he wanted to do, Liam called me one day in the middle of some epiphany. Long story short, he recounted his life and shared the things he'd never told me before, as well as how much working on Ephemeral meant to him as a project that felt like the unspoken understanding we had with each other despite never being the kind of siblings that spoke with a particular sentimentality. He ended the call by telling me that sometimes, he wondered if he would've been happier had he stayed in Hawaii after graduating high school, instead of moving to London for his first year of uni. The conclusion he came to, however, is that he doesn't regret his choice. He was able to be there with me and for me when I needed him and if there's a parallel universe where he was happier having stayed home by himself, he would still rather have me in it.
That's why his domain expansion dream with Ephemeral's finale playing provided a perfect visual representation of The Dimension of Filling in the Spaces.
The idea is visually similar to the infinity mirror rooms, the Unlimited Void, Pocket Dimensions, and Inside Out's core memories/long term memory.
We also visited the Royal Academy of Art for the Marina Abromovic exhibition. While I was previously familiar with her physically intense performative pieces, such as Rhythm 0 (1974), Victoria and I resonated more with her more spiritual, nature-based works of later years. Her use of natural stones and materials to connect with the source of all things was a concept which resonated with us.
We liked her Portal piece, in particular. Victoria told me about how it reminded her of something an art therapy teacher said to her. "When a person goes into a space, they take on a new body within that space. So it's essentially the two bodies, the space, and the person interacting. It's like their separate bodies collide in space." We thought that idea --- of stepping into a new body, taking on a persona appropriate for the situation, space, and dynamic of the interaction between others within the space --- was similar to stepping through a portal. This concept felt like one I could use to apply to the idea of entering new "versions" of myself --- as the protagonist of the game and the different perspectives the player can experience.
Summary of Relevant Exhibition References:
Yayoi Kusama - Visual Artist
Kusama's immersive and otherworldly installations, like "Infinity Mirrored Rooms," serve as a reference for creating surreal environments that mirror the protagonist's internal struggles and fragmented memories and multiple realities.
Marina Abramović - Performance Artist
Abramović's work, such as ‘Portal,’ ‘Dozing Consciousness’ reflecting on the different states of being she reached from pushing her body to its limits through her physically intense performance pieces influence the narrative's depth in portraying the protagonist's emotional journey and self-discovery.
SUPER META ACID TRIP FUNHOUSE
When I was severely ill earlier in the semester, I spent a whole day sleeping and had the trippiest fever dreams. There was one which I described as being like a "super meta acid trip funhouse." You know how in a funhouse, things you step on move or you look into mirrors that distort your image? It was like that except, as you went through it, reality itself would change around you. The fabric of the universe and everything that's true would change every second and you wouldn’t be able to grasp it was changing long enough to get yourself out of the loop. Somehow the moral of my urban legend fable-like dreams is always along the same lines because the only way out of this one was thinking of someone you truly loved, some might call a soulmate, and keep a hold on the thought of them as they could be the only constant in every version of reality and the universe.
Also, I made this phone case to commemorate it.
This concept of being able to jump into multiple universes' versions of yourself reminds me of Everything Everywhere All At Once (which is one of my favourite films).
I particularly like this clip of Michelle Yeoh as Evelyn Wange verse jumping through every universe all at once. The amount of detail in every second long clip is so visually effective and impressive.
Practical Experiments
I experimented with my own starlight projector and a small mirror I had in my room to see if I could capture any similar effect with just what I already had. Naturally, it was quite difficult due to the significantly smaller scale. The lack of blank ceiling or wall space in my room also made it hard to make the space look as vast or infinite as I'd have liked as the ceiling light fixtures would show. The white frame around the mirror also made it impossible to make any reflection look seamless.
I've also been painting and drawing pictures of sunsets. I find that I always gravitate towards imagery of spaces in the clouds with a moon and other celestial symbols e.g. the design of this website, the design of my professional website, my first album cover art, etc.
The saturation and different combinations of pastel coloured sunsets back in Hawaii were a sight that always brought me peace, especially during quarantine. The way the crescent moon would often be visible during the day in the clear sky felt surreal and the stars I'd get to see so clearly from my own driveway always helped me put things into perspective. Some of my best memories so far have been while watching the sunset over the ocean or the mountains with friends. So when I'd paint to destress, those were the images I'd automatically find comfort in visualising. That's also why the background of the filling in the spaces album cover is set to golden hour.
Comments