Ai Tomiki

One thing that struck me at the Olafur Eliasson exhibition in Tokyo was the incessant sound of visitors snapping away with their phone cameras.

Some posed next to the giant, glimmering glass structure in “The exploration of the centre of the sun,” while many queued to take a photo of another probably photogenic work displayed near the “Sustainability research lab.” (I hesitated to line up.)

I, too, took several shots with my DSLR (for personal research)…before I realized I was not experiencing the work at all. Both the affordance of the show (that it lets us take photos freely) and the fact that people were queueing to take pictures of supposedly interactive or immersive works hindered me from going near the pieces and spending time in front of them.

I wondered if that was what the artist truly wanted.

The exhibition was the first in Japan to be themed on climate issues. Right after entering, visitors are welcomed by a text that ends with an urgent message:

All human activities have a carbon footprint. […] we all need to be active in our own fields and at all possible levels. Now is the time to act on behalf of the planet.

Near the end of the show, there was a bookshelf displaying a number of Eliasson’s past publications. In one of them, Parliament of Possibilities, published by a gallery in South Korea on the occasion of his show there, Eliasson wrote about the process of his work “making sense.”

From what I understood, he said that an artwork exists in relationship to the viewer. In other words, what the viewer receives from the work and how they respond to it determines its meaning.

Eliasson’s call to feel the wonders of the earth and to take action is something very close to my heart. Precisely because of this, I was a bit confused about what the Tokyo exhibition was really about. Was it a nod to the Instagrammable beauty of his work, rather than an attempt to create a contemplative space?

The fact that, two floors above, the museum cafe was serving eat-in beverage orders in disposable (and colorful) plastic cups, complete with lid and straw, didn’t help to solve the confusion either. I decided to head to my next destination and have a break there instead.

As Eliasson says, there is no correct way to experience or understand an artwork. And to share something that moved you with others is a beautiful, fundamental act.

So maybe I’m the one who was overthinking and failed to experience his work to the full? But still, could there have been another way to enjoy his wonderful work?

*Update: I came across this film about him a few days later

“Olafur Eliasson: Sometimes the river is the bridge” at The Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo (MOT)

https://www.mot-art-museum.jp/en/