I was just about to trash all of these photos from my laptop to make way for more photos, but I was suddenly reminded of this amazing exhibition that I saw this January in Tokyo. I was first introduced to Leandro Erlich’s work in Kanazawa after seeing his infamous ‘Swimming Pool’ installation back in 2015. Three years later, I chanced upon his solo exhibit at the Mori Art Museum in Roppongi and it totally blew my little brain into pieces. I’m pretty sure remnants of my brain-explosion are scattered on the carpets of Mori Art Museum. (Wow, gross visual, Jo). Here is the view of the Sky Deck at Mori Art Museum (a bit of a tourist gimmick but worth the money if you want to pay to feel like an insignificant ant in a giant city).
Okay, so the ticket stub currently lives in my 2017/18 diary and I love the colours. It’s all in the details with these experiences. I would feel pretty underwhelmed going into an exhibition with a badly designed ticket stub. I know, it’s pretentious, it seems silly, it seems vain, but I dare YOU to go to design school for 5 years and try NOT to care about these things… I dare you.
Here is one of the first works in the exhibit, some kind of mystical 2D but 3D mist of beauty illuminated perfectly in a dark room to emulate the feeling of walking through clouds. Erlich loves to confuse the sense out of his audience. At this point in my stay in Tokyo, I was feeling pretty miserable and ready to just climb into the sweaty folds of a Sumo wrestler and take an endless nap. I really needed this exhibit to smack some life into my soul. Play whack-a-mole with my sense of reality so to speak. Truth be told, I am not a huge fan of Tokyo, Japan. The city makes me feel claustrophobic, a bit greasy, a bit anxious and a bit blue. The lights and the fashion and the “BAM” is just a distraction from the chaos (this is an opinion though, isn’t it. This is just one little Melburnian expressing herself on an avg. 1-2 readers-per-post blog).
Here we see black boxes placed in a blackened room perfectly before a window. Behind the window is a classroom with individual desks and chalkboards, I get churchy, Sunday school vibes from the room itself. The boxes align perfectly with the seats in the room and the lights illuminating the tables and chairs give the audience the illusion of being within the room. However, because they’re staring at their reflection, it’s quite ghostly and spiritual. That’s my interpretation. Who knows.
OH THE pièce de résistance. And the diorama of the pièce de résistance. The giant angled mirror helps the audience take a crazy parkour selfie for their Instagram feeds. Phwoa, an easy 50+ likes right here.
I’m a terrible art commentator, I’ll shush now. G’bye.