Yoko Ono: Growing Freedom
Georgia Tooke - 12th May 2022
I think it’s important to check in with yourself before entering a gallery. Who are you when you are viewing art? How will that impact the way you view it? Sometimes I have all the patience and attention, time and energy to fully take in what I’m seeing, and fully digest the details. This, however, was not one of those times lol. Let me set the scene before we dive into the first of four exhibitions I saw during my Vancouver day trip.
Fuelled by jealousy and crappy coffee, I found myself hungover and determined to see some art in the “big city” on my only full day off. I’ve absolutely adored watching Shae go to galleries to see some incredible work, and I’ve felt included and inspired each time I read her thoughts on the shows she visits. In my mind Vancouver is a hop, skip & a jump away from Victoria (for those who don’t know, Vancouver is located on the west coast of Canada and Victoria is on the island next to it, about an hour and a half ferry ride away), but in reality (especially when traveling by public transit) is eons away. I left my house at 8:30am and arrived at my first gallery at noon.
I’d been meaning to check out the Yoko Ono: Growing Freedom show at the Vancouver Art Gallery so I figured that would be a good place to start.
Now initially I couldn’t quite put my finger on the feeling I had about the exhibition until I called Shae the next day to talk it through. She told me that she hasn’t been feeling compelled to see the art of huge celebrity artist’s retrospective shows; she gave the example of the immersive Van Gogh exhibition that’s been traveling around lately. I felt the same way… but why? While I do think these artists’ work is crucial to art history, where does it sit contextually now? I feel like Ono’s work was groundbreaking and spellbinding in the time it was created and even perhaps for the following few decades but now? I feel like the artist celebrity trope is tired because the “celebrity” trope is tired. Celebrities aren’t nearly as interesting or mysterious anymore. I think that’s of course due to the internet, the oversaturation of media, the commodification of individuality, the fact that anyone with a phone and a social media app can be famous for literally any reason. Also seeing a famous artist’s retrospective work isn’t as fun or exciting because we’ve already seen it, talked about it, scholars and critics have already written about it ad nauseam and gen pop decided this is a good artist who made good work. I felt like I, as the viewer of Ono’s show, didn't have to do any real legwork to understand anything. Don’t get me wrong, I still love Ono’s body of work; she’s someone who truly lives a fully creative life, finding art, love and hope in every avenue she embarked on whether that was alone or with her husband John Lennon. There was no separating her life from her art, which I find truly admirable and inspirational.
The first room I walked into had a large projection of one of Ono’s most famous (and one of my favourite) works in her career: “Cut Piece” from 1964. I first learned about this work when I was in my first year of art school learning about performance art. Ono sat on her knees on a stage before an audience with a large pair of scissors beside her. The gallery viewers were invited to come up to Ono and use the scissors on her clothes. What I found most interesting was how Ono did this performance in Japan and in America and the audiences interacted with her very differently. The Japanese audience was hesitant to participate and when they did cut her clothes it was modestly, whereas, unsurprisingly, the American audience were quick to cut every piece of clothing off her body.
While I was watching this work, taking in the video for the first time after knowing about it for years, I heard this incredibly loud hammering from the next room over. I grew immediately irritated because I was having my ~moment~ with this piece that was being rudely interrupted by what I assumed was a installation/deinstallation from the gallery - couldn’t they do that not during opening hours?? It wasn’t until I walked into the next room that I discovered the source of the noise. On the wall across the room hung an approx 3’x3’ wooden “canvas” with over a hundred nails haphazardly stuck into every surface. Next to it hung a box of nails and a hammer chained to the wall. The noise I was just upset about was not at all what I thought it was but rather an interactive prompt that Ono had given the gallery goers to participate in. This was not the only piece that required viewer participation in this room. There was a white ladder placed in the middle of the room, a seemingly blank canvas hung flush with the ceiling and a magnifying glass hanging down from the ceiling next to it from a chain. If you climbed the ladder and held the magnifying glass up to the center of the canvas, you’d be greeted with a very tiny “yes”.
As I moved through this space, I heard a mixture of giggles, ceramic pieces clinking & clacking together as well as the sound of scotch tape being torn off the little metal teeth of its container from behind a divider wall. As I rounded the corner I found four women sitting at a table, all bent over a project they were working on. It reminded me of a craft you would make at a summer camp. In the middle of the table was a pile of broken white ceramic mugs and plates. The piece was called “Mend”, the viewers (as I typed viewers, something didn’t feel right. “Viewers” feels so passive in this scenario; I was not viewing but actively participating… anyways.. I digress) are invited to use tape or string to put the pieces back together in whatever way they desire, some people reconstructed the plates or cups whereas others made entirely new creations. I loved this part of the show, it was the first time in the exhibition so far that I felt relaxed and really focused. Viewing art by yourself can be lonely and quiet so this was a nice activity to connect with the work and feel present.
The next half of the show was dedicated to Yoko Ono and John Lennon’s relationship and the work they created together. While I found their love and devotion to each other and their art incredibly inspiring, I don’t feel particularly compelled to write about it.
The last piece I saw in the exhibition that really caught my attention was a collaborative work called ARISING. It was an open call to women of all ages and from all countries to submit a “testament of harm done to [them] for being a woman”. They were instructed to send a photo of just their eyes and their story; some were two lines, others were six pages long. Each story was printed on an 8.5”x11” sheet of paper that was hung on a wire lining the walls. This work was raw, vulnerable and heartbreaking. It’s infuriating and devastating to know that every woman has a story of harm that been done to them because of their gender, to see even just a small volume of women who have courageously shared those stories. I think it’s incredibly powerful that Ono had given these people a voice and provided a space for others to read and listen.
My round up of thoughts for this show: I feel like I spent the whole time feeling like I should have been getting more out of it… Like this is Yoko fckin Ono - shouldn’t I leave feeling elated?? Like I just saw one of the greats! Why do I not feel like running to my studio, creative juices flowing, ready to make something? As I’m writing this a week later, I’m still trying to figure that out. I think it’s because I knew I had three more shows ahead of me, I felt the time pressure I was putting on myself and an impending long skytrain, bus, ferry, car ride home at the end of it all. But overall, a wonderful show of life lived for art. If you want to read more about the show you can do so here.