BEYOND THE COVER:
THE NEW SUPERFLAT
Juxtapoz and Przm bring you Beyond the Cover,
an inside look at each issue's cover artist, giving a further look into
some of the best creatives working today. Each Beyond the Cover will be
presented on Przm.com, a new
platform that is the easiest way for artists to create
shop-ready sites in minutes.
This month we feature the New Superflat.
THE NEW SUPERFLAT
It's all happening, many months in the making, perhaps even centuries in the making, as artist Takashi Murakami's Superflat concept is about all corners of time and culture being collapsed into one accessible space. Like Warhol before him, Murakami pioneered unlikely partnerships with low and highbrow entities, building bridges between fashion, art, design—mashups of cultural aesthetics. When our editor returns from Japan after visiting Murakami, he always brings back a contagious energy that further fuels our exploration of this new contemporary world where tomorrow is now and the past is in our back pocket.
From August 4–7, 2016, at Pivot Art + Culture in Seattle, Juxtapoz and Takashi Murakami will debut a Superflat experiment, a new exhibit without rules or barriers that invites our favorite artists to shine, unhibited. —Kristin Farr
From August 4–7, 2016, at Pivot Art + Culture in Seattle, Juxtapoz and Takashi Murakami will debut a Superflat experiment, a new exhibit without rules or barriers that invites our favorite artists to shine, unhibited. —Kristin Farr
Evan Pricco: What is it that you particularly like about Juxtapoz? We are doing this show together, and have gotten to know each other over this past year, but I haven't asked you this question yet.
Takashi Murakami: I'm moved by the fact that, as an artist, Robert Williams took the step of declaring that he had nothing to be ashamed of, and that the work of his friends was so great and worth seeing that he decided to show it in the form of a monthly magazine. I think of print as a really high-risk medium, and for it to have continued to be read for more than 22 years is really a miracle. And I think, during your editorial direction, there's been an even greater mix of cultures and it is a genuinely interesting read.
Takashi Murakami: I'm moved by the fact that, as an artist, Robert Williams took the step of declaring that he had nothing to be ashamed of, and that the work of his friends was so great and worth seeing that he decided to show it in the form of a monthly magazine. I think of print as a really high-risk medium, and for it to have continued to be read for more than 22 years is really a miracle. And I think, during your editorial direction, there's been an even greater mix of cultures and it is a genuinely interesting read.
What I always like is that Robert writes with this mixture of elegance and “fuck you” authority, and it seemed to resonate beyond the page into a whole culture. I'm trying to think of when this show idea came about, and if I'm not mistaken, it was while we were talking with James Jean at dinner after his show at your space in Nakano Broadway in Tokyo. James and I were both saying how important it was for artists who come from the Juxtapoz world to get critical attention from the contemporary art world, and how that growth was so important to an artist's career. You sort of looked at James like he was crazy, letting him know how you felt that he had fans, made art that sells, and was world famous, and that should feel like something to be proud of. You almost implied that the blue chip, contemporary art world isn't necessarily the end-all, be-all, and that you, at times, feel impaired by it.
I believe this was at the after party at Daini Chikara Shuzoa, a rather tasty sashimi and boiled fish restaurant in Nakano. James Jean is a regular and extremely popular artist in your pages. Here he was, caught in the dilemma of not being able to enter the mainstream. And yet, he is unbelievably popular on Instagram and his work sells for high prices. He has his own particular strategy where he does not deal with galleries and sells his work directly. As he told me about his worries, I remember wondering if that very behavior was somehow contrary to the rules of the industry. It has been 24 years since Helter Skelter opened, and yet the wall between mainstream, blue chip contemporary and the emerging generation is quite thick. That struck me as strange. And then you talked with me at great length about that.
I believe this was at the after party at Daini Chikara Shuzoa, a rather tasty sashimi and boiled fish restaurant in Nakano. James Jean is a regular and extremely popular artist in your pages. Here he was, caught in the dilemma of not being able to enter the mainstream. And yet, he is unbelievably popular on Instagram and his work sells for high prices. He has his own particular strategy where he does not deal with galleries and sells his work directly. As he told me about his worries, I remember wondering if that very behavior was somehow contrary to the rules of the industry. It has been 24 years since Helter Skelter opened, and yet the wall between mainstream, blue chip contemporary and the emerging generation is quite thick. That struck me as strange. And then you talked with me at great length about that.
JR was there, and he's another artist who sort of redefined the rules while making a great name for himself in the art world. For me, it was like pillars of the art world, all from different parts of the world, discussing these issues of criticism and fame. When you were younger, did you feel the need to be recognized, critically, as an artist, even if they were bad reviews? Was there a need to be written about in respected journals? Do you see that as something artists still really strive for?
In Japan, what's lacking is high-quality criticism. That was the case then and is the case now. There are zero critics here who have immersed themselves in the fundamental question of "What is the contemporary art of post-war Japan?" As an artist, this provides a terrible lack of motivation and I felt quite lonely. Yes, I do feel the need for high-quality criticism. Even if the outlook on my work is negative, if the quality of the review is high, I accept it.
In Japan, what's lacking is high-quality criticism. That was the case then and is the case now. There are zero critics here who have immersed themselves in the fundamental question of "What is the contemporary art of post-war Japan?" As an artist, this provides a terrible lack of motivation and I felt quite lonely. Yes, I do feel the need for high-quality criticism. Even if the outlook on my work is negative, if the quality of the review is high, I accept it.
Paul Schimmel's Helter Skelter exhibition in LA seems to have had a big influence on you. Was the original Superflat show a response to that show, or were you coming from a different place? I feel like a Liz Larner sculpture in the same room as a Robert Williams painting is a good example of how you collect art.
Helter Skelter opened at MOCA in Los Angeles in '92, which was around the beginning of my career. It was the show that introduced the world to Mike Kelley, Paul McCarthy, Chris Burden, Charles Ray, Raymond Pettibon, and others, all artists who would end up years later at the forefront of the contemporary art world. I loved that show and especially the fact that it featured artists who were not major names and were active mostly on the West Coast. It was the moment when I began to think that I too might have a license to participate in that world, and so I began to make works with that same feeling.
Helter Skelter also included work by Robert Williams, and though that certainly caught my interest, it has not been one of the elements that has received a lot of closeup attention as the years have gone by. As for me, I have gone on to have the curator of Helter Skelter curate one of my own exhibitions, and have my work featured in print in Juxtapoz, so the world of my youthful fantasies has become reality. Meanwhile, I feel like the magazine and Robert Williams have refrained from playing in the overground of contemporary art and are still operating in the underground; in some ways, what you cover appears to be less art and more like subculture. But what is the line between mainstream and subculture? Art has always been concerned thematically with high and low, but what about mainstream and the underground?
Helter Skelter opened at MOCA in Los Angeles in '92, which was around the beginning of my career. It was the show that introduced the world to Mike Kelley, Paul McCarthy, Chris Burden, Charles Ray, Raymond Pettibon, and others, all artists who would end up years later at the forefront of the contemporary art world. I loved that show and especially the fact that it featured artists who were not major names and were active mostly on the West Coast. It was the moment when I began to think that I too might have a license to participate in that world, and so I began to make works with that same feeling.
Helter Skelter also included work by Robert Williams, and though that certainly caught my interest, it has not been one of the elements that has received a lot of closeup attention as the years have gone by. As for me, I have gone on to have the curator of Helter Skelter curate one of my own exhibitions, and have my work featured in print in Juxtapoz, so the world of my youthful fantasies has become reality. Meanwhile, I feel like the magazine and Robert Williams have refrained from playing in the overground of contemporary art and are still operating in the underground; in some ways, what you cover appears to be less art and more like subculture. But what is the line between mainstream and subculture? Art has always been concerned thematically with high and low, but what about mainstream and the underground?
I guess, in a lot of ways, there seems to be this difficulty in defining what the viewer's role is in the blue chip world, and that always bothered me. It's almost as if appreciation of art, the act of enjoying it, means that you don't count or that you are a nuisance to certain parts of the contemporary art world. I really like how museums are starting to be a lot more inclusive and smart, and really broadening their scope without weakening the institutional platform; including film, fashion, music and design into their programming. I think that sort of breaks down the barriers between perceived high and low cultures.
Even though I never saw it in person, the Superflat show really influences the way I think about Juxtapoz. I loved that indecipherable collection of high and low right next to each other and on a completely equal playing field in a museum setting. Painting, toys, fashion, products, all of it in one presentation. I like creating this feeling where on one page you have a blue chip, Gagosian-level, established artist, and then on the next, there is some underground graffiti artist or illustrator who's never even had a gallery show. I think that is an honest way to look at art; more truthful. It takes into account people's sensibilities and experiences as they walk into a gallery or museum, acknowledging all the creative possibilities.
I agree. Actually, I myself am astonished at the breadth of vision every month. I found myself wondering if it was even necessary to collaborate, but since you seemed daunted by that wall between you and high art, or better put, the depth and size of this channel that divided you, I thought maybe I could provide a rope across that channel. And that's really how we began this collaboration.
Honestly though, the fact that I have been able to remain in the contemporary art world, or in other words, the high art world, is the result of a lot of coincidental factors coming together. It is mainly because I am a Japanese artist that the high art world opened its gates to me. Or if we look further, it was Paul Schimmel who selected Superflat for exhibition at MOCA and later curated ©MURAKAMI, which means that I entered high art from the Los Angeles, West Coast side of things. And yet, as an artist, the elements that form my foundation have a deep subcultural essence and a shallow high-art essence. In every sense, I have a Juxtapoz mind, so I was actually surprised to hear that the divide you spoke of still exists!
Even though I never saw it in person, the Superflat show really influences the way I think about Juxtapoz. I loved that indecipherable collection of high and low right next to each other and on a completely equal playing field in a museum setting. Painting, toys, fashion, products, all of it in one presentation. I like creating this feeling where on one page you have a blue chip, Gagosian-level, established artist, and then on the next, there is some underground graffiti artist or illustrator who's never even had a gallery show. I think that is an honest way to look at art; more truthful. It takes into account people's sensibilities and experiences as they walk into a gallery or museum, acknowledging all the creative possibilities.
I agree. Actually, I myself am astonished at the breadth of vision every month. I found myself wondering if it was even necessary to collaborate, but since you seemed daunted by that wall between you and high art, or better put, the depth and size of this channel that divided you, I thought maybe I could provide a rope across that channel. And that's really how we began this collaboration.
Honestly though, the fact that I have been able to remain in the contemporary art world, or in other words, the high art world, is the result of a lot of coincidental factors coming together. It is mainly because I am a Japanese artist that the high art world opened its gates to me. Or if we look further, it was Paul Schimmel who selected Superflat for exhibition at MOCA and later curated ©MURAKAMI, which means that I entered high art from the Los Angeles, West Coast side of things. And yet, as an artist, the elements that form my foundation have a deep subcultural essence and a shallow high-art essence. In every sense, I have a Juxtapoz mind, so I was actually surprised to hear that the divide you spoke of still exists!
Do you think the art world appreciate the themes of Superflat more now than it did when the namesake show first happened? I feel like people didn't realize how much their appreciation for art was aligned with the Superflat concept until you explained it to them.
I feel like, in the last 20 years, the behavior of appreciating art itself has become more mainstream, and that is why our ways of appreciating it have changed. For example, now if you see a show at a museum you like, you can look up that artist's name, find them on Instagram, and then you find out that your favorite idol or singer also likes that artist, and that makes you all the more happy. In that environment, reviews and critiques are no longer taken into consideration.
I feel like, in the last 20 years, the behavior of appreciating art itself has become more mainstream, and that is why our ways of appreciating it have changed. For example, now if you see a show at a museum you like, you can look up that artist's name, find them on Instagram, and then you find out that your favorite idol or singer also likes that artist, and that makes you all the more happy. In that environment, reviews and critiques are no longer taken into consideration.
You are so right. Maybe it's the internet that sort of lets the casual observer make connections within the art world a lot easier, and sort of breaks down the barriers. I was thinking, when we were narrowing down artists for the show, that I wanted to mix styles and backgrounds, to gather a group of people who were either on the cusp or about to make that leap into that elusive gatekeeper, the contemporary art lexicon. But I also really wanted artists who create work in the traditional arts in a new and refreshing way. I'm thinking of Ben Venom's quilts, or Elisabeth Higgins O'Connor's sculptures, or Todd James's paintings, or even how Trenton Doyle Hancock treats the comic, narrative medium. I didn't want everyone to be so underground that they needed a ton of background info, but I wanted people that pushed those core elements of our history.
Most of the artists were unfamiliar to me, so I've enjoyed seeing the images and I'm really looking forward to encountering the actual work in person.
Most of the artists were unfamiliar to me, so I've enjoyed seeing the images and I'm really looking forward to encountering the actual work in person.
Juxtapoz x Superflat will be on display at Pivot Art + Culture in Seattle, August 4–7, 2016. Artists selected to appear in the show include Chiho Aoshima, Urs Fischer, Kazunori Hamana, James Jean, JH Kagaku, Friedrich Kunath, Takashi Murakami, Kazumi Nakamura, Otani Workshop, Mark Ryden, David Shrigley, Katsuya Terada, a selection from Toilet Paper Magazine, Yuji Ueda, He Xiang Yu, Zoer & Velvet, Trenton Doyle Hancock, Todd James, Austin Lee, Rebecca Morgan, Elisabeth Higgins O'Connor, Paco Pomet, Parra, Christian Rex van Minnen. Erin M. Riley, Devin Troy Strother, Sage Vaughn, and Ben Venom
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