With "Kusama-Infinity," director-writer-producer Heather Lenz takes on an impressive challenge: to dramatize the story of a radical individual, the experimental, eccentric mid-century Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama.
Born into a wealthy agricultural family in 1929, the young Kusama considered herself an artist, an idea that didn't sit well with her conservative parents, especially her mother, who was constantly taking away her stubborn child's artistic tools in order to groom her to be an obedient housewife and marry into money.
Throughout the war years the girl kept turning out canvasses covered with what would become her signature dots and lines. Her philosophy is summed up in an existential rant: "From the point of view of one who creates, everything is a gamble, a leap into the unknown. I convert the energy of life into dots of the universe. And that energy, along with love, flies into the sky."
Faced with a culture dedicated to keeping women, particularly talented women, in their place, Kusama plotted early on to go to America. An early inspiration was the New Mexican desert work of Georgia O'Keeffe, in particular O'Keeffe's famous canvas "Black Iris." Kusama wrote O'Keeffe, begging the elderly artist to take her on as a pupil. O'Keeffe refused, but did kindly offer introductions to New York galleries. What followed was a virtual Kusama invasion as the young woman sent a number of huge canvases to several galleries, unsolicited.
An illustration of just how single-mindedly dedicated Kusama was to overcoming the old boys' network of the 1950s Manhattan art scene comes in a revealing tale about her feelings regarding sex. Confronted by men who were often horny, sexually aggressive, in fact downright abusive, Kusama established a platonic bond with the reclusive artist Joseph Cornell. Deeply repressed, Cornell lived much of his adult years supporting his mother and his disabled brother. As Kusama tartly observes, "He didn't like sex, and I didn't like sex, so we didn't have sex."
Having witnessed the worst things that war can bring during her childhood, Kusama became involved in the late-60s anti-war movement in New York, helping to stage naked anti-war happenings in Central Park, news of which prompted her shocked parents back in Japan to buy up every copy of magazines describing her activities. There are memorable bits of archival footage of gleefully nude 20somethings dancing in defiance of the Nixon-era authorities.
Kusama's story is also marked by wild mood swings, including several serious suicidal episodes. "Among waves of people, I have managed to survive this long life. How many times did I think about putting a knife to my neck, seeking death? I collected my thoughts and got up again. I wish for life's bright sunshine. I want to live forever."