tadanori yokoo interview

credited with everything from reinventing contemporary poster design to premeditating superflat, tadanori yokoo has had a head-spinning 50-years-plus career. famously retiring from the commercial field in 1981, after seeing a picasso retrospective at moma, yokoo concentrated on painting which remains his main focus ever since. his latest project, teshima art house, yuko nagayama redesigned funeral home, is set to be completed in the spring of 2013, just in time for setouchi triennale 2013. it reflects artist’s lifelong fascination with death, as in “living well is dying well,” and will house his permanent exhibition.

yokoo agrees to meet at scai the bathhouse, which holds a pre-teshima exhibition of his works. while arranging the meeting i’m warned that yokoo may not want to talk at all, apparently his mood swings are legendary. on the morning of the interview i receive a nervous e-mail requesting to change the time. it is still unclear whether yokoo will feel like talking. the artist arrives. there are no courtesy greetings, or any indications of the mood he’s in. the tension is high. surprisingly, after making a few random circles around me in what seems to be a silent conversation with unseen counsellors, yokoo himself offers to start the interview and despite an awkward prelude remains highly engaged until i run out of questions.

no, it did not.

i don’t have any. no goal either.

i’m not the one to say. i’m only interested in what i do now and how it shapes my future. the past doesn’t mean much.

all the time.

yes, but it’s deeply connected to my life and has nothing to do with this interview.

most of them are dead.

sure, business-wise. i’d rather not name anyone, it won’t be fair to some of my friends. it may make them feel bad about themselves.

i feel even closer to him now, after his death.

well, yes, but i mean things he has thought me. it lives in me.

what’s the word for it in english? repetition? it is something of a necessity to me… slowly creeping forward… like a caterpillar. there is a kiyoko suizenji [famous japanese enka singer] song about it. i think it’s important to look back sometimes and draw from it.

…?! weird question… fate? i had to be here for my work.

this is something you’re born with. spirit cannot exist without a body and vice versa. i can’t set them apart.

i don’t think i’m up for another reincarnation. if i did… i’d be an actress in takarazuka, acting as a man. you saw the painting downstairs [the primitive universe], right? there are three figures of women, two dressed as men.

joke is a supplement for my life.

i constantly joke. there are at least two jokes within this interview already. (chuckles)

painting.

i did. a year in a zen temple.

just that one year.

i feel downgraded, but it is just as important to grow down! (laugh)

i never regret anything. i approve everything.

i’m horrible at it. i have asthma, can’t keep the note.

anko. (laughs)

taiyaki, dorayaki, zenzai, love that stuff! but not western sweets, like shortcakes.

exactly.

you’ve got some good jokes. (laughs)

i was disappointed not to win the best lead actor award. (laughs)

oh well, it was directed by oshima… an artistic film. i’d rather be in an entertaining one.

it comes from “advertisements for myself” by norman mailer, i even borrowed his title. a motivation to create something comes from oneself, not from the others. it’s vital to know yourself. i start with myself and ideally end up blank.

pink is cute.

i used to wear a pink t-shirt in high school.

(pulls his leg up) i wore pink socks in the morning… but i changed.

i think pink is an adorable color, but i don’t use it much in my paintings anymore. in fact, i prefer black. i used it heavily in the 60s, in my nude paintings. (grabs a book of his works from a bookshelf)

what an absurd question, of course women! (laughs)

i don’t design much these days, only my exhibitions posters. i can’t separate the two.

when i was a kid i studied from masterpieces, then, i stopped copying and started collaging. i like connecting two mismatching objects together. it’s a surrealist practice called dépaysement, duchamp practiced it.

i like darkness. it’s my origin and my terminus.

absolutely. don’t know about tomorrow though.

there will be many people here in 10 minutes [we meet on the day of his exhibition opening].

no, no. (laughs) i want to escape.

with you? now?!

sorry about last time at moma, my throat was sore and i couldn’t speak. i liked your questions a lot.