Tokyo has no shortage of museums or galleries. Special and permanent exhibits/collections are what you would expect for a major metropolitan area. Despite the variety and quality, it still takes a good bit of effort and inspiration to visit any given exhibit. Viewing a painting at a popular exhibit is frequently like viewing an ad in a train during rush hour. The issue isn’t the size of the painting or ad, but rather the experience of viewing something in a rocking mosh pit environment. Tall people, i.e. most gaijin, have an advantage even if the crowd around a particular painting is five deep, height allows for a semi-pleasant viewing experience. That is provided they are hung at an appropriate height to begin with. This is not a guarantee in Tokyo.
The National Art Center in Tokyo’s Midtown appears to be a sign of needed change. The National Art Center is a gorgeous building with a scalloped glass front that extends the length of the gallery. The three-story tall atrium runs the length of the museum is a stunning area. In keeping with art’s universal rule of thirds the atrium is divided into to three areas by two large inverse cones rising like giant ice cream cones, one two stories, the other three, each topped with a classy high end cafe; fitting for the high end ways and means of Tokyo’s Midtown. While the individual galleries don’t really appear to connect together in a nice fluid manner, they are properly lit and someone taller than five feet is responsible for hanging the works of art.
The National Art Center is celebrating it’s one year anniversary by sharing an exhibit of Pablo’s Picasso’s works from the Musee National Picasso in Paris with another museum in Tokyo’s exclusive Midtown. The exhibit at the National Art Museum is entitled “His Life; His Creation.” The one at the Suntory Museum of Art was darker and smaller and entitled, “Portrait of a Soul.”
I have to say I was surprised that there were so few people at the exhibits. But then again, there weren’t any staggeringly famous pieces involved. My experience with these types of shows is that the Japanese are happy to crowd around and stare at a well known piece of art, but have little interest in lesser known pieces. Their loss. I have been to exhibits here where patrons can even exit before the end, but after the major pieces. The design of the galleries at the Tokyo Art Center has no emergency escape hatch for those with short attention spans.
I came away with two realizations; OK, three. First, viewing art hung at an appropriate height can make viewing art in Tokyo a pleasant experience and not, well, a pain in the neck. Second, is his infatuation with basic women shapes: apple, pear, and hour glass (or guitar). I guess I have always focused on 
the components of deconstruction of the form and its reconstruction on canvas that leads to that wonderful movement and energy his works possess. What was evident in this set of 170 paintings, sculptures, drawings and objects is how he used the base women forms as guideline, and outline if you will, for his reconstruction. With this in mind the body parts he chooses to exaggerate take on greater meaning and aren’t simply points of grotesque-like disfigurations.
On the high amusement scale for this show were the pairings viewing the pieces. It was very clear that despite the poor attendance, less than half of the people wanted to be there. It was highly entertaining and worth the price of admission alone, watching the “I want to be here” person explaining to the “What the (*&?” person the different parts as if it Picasso’s paintings are hidden pictures to be solved by correctly identifying body parts. I lingered for sometime by the Coupling 1933, hoping to catch an elderly couple explaining the gigantic “column” in the middle of drawing. I am just going to say between that piece and the Minotaur eating a female in Minotaur Ravishing a Woman, 1933, that by the time he painted Dora, Portrait of Dora Maar, 1937, he was clearing painting portraits quickly in order to get back to the ravishing part.
The third realization I had while viewing the exhibit is that Picasso and
I have something in common. You know, as much as an average guy can have in common with a famous and dead artist. We both drink (drank) Bass Pale Ale! Who knew? I mean think about it. It’s Pablo Picasso. He could have drunk anything he wanted. And he drank Bass, clearly appreciating the clean, crisp, smooth, slightly sweet taste of the world’s best Pale Ale. There were two pieces in particular that really struck me. Both are pieces I have never seen or heard of before. Both were displayed at a wonderfully perfect height and sans mosh pit. And both, just happen to have been inspired by and incorporated parts of a Bass. The first was Bouteille de Bass, verre et journal (Bottle of Bass, Glass and Newspaper), Spring 1914. You are going to have trust me on this one, but this picture doesn’t due this sculpture justice. Combined in context with the surrounding pieces it was clear that he was using these objects together in this sculpture to help himself work through his distortions, disassemblies, and deconstruction of objects while examining how their components intertwine, overlap and merge. It’s interesting looking at this in two demisions now because it is even more evident how he selects his lines, not only taking the lines between objects but the stressing the lines between color and shading differences.
The second piece in this same area was Guitare et bouteille de Bass (Guitar and Bottle of Bass), Spring – Fall 1913. This is an early attempt at deconstruction and reconstruction of a guitar, a form and idea he would return to frequently. Here the idea holds up better in two dimensions given the simplisty of the dissection in this piece.
And now that I am finished, I am going to quietly finish my Bass.