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Lot Essay
Yayoi Kusama’s Pumpkin is a timeless work that presents a peerless iteration of the artist’s now iconic motif. Intimately scaled, yet gesturing toward big questions, the present work elevates a humble object into something mythic and beautiful. Kusama’s work has always asked us to see life in a new way, and here she has given special attention to something that might initially seem unremarkable. The use of black and white recalls her earlier canvases like No. 2 (1959) and White No. 28 (1960) from her Infinity Net series, and the silver-colored stalk alludes to her use of reflective and mirrored surfaces. Spiritual and cosmic, this black and white composition is exquisite, and offers even more insight into Kusama’s mind and process. Using her signature dots and detailed, interlocking shapes, Kusama engenders a magisterial space with Pumpkin that is as poetic and bold as a canvas by Jackson Pollock or Willem de Kooning.
There is also something tangible about Pumpkin. Critic Bill Berkson writes that Kusama’s white paintings “are like skin asserting a tender yet solid primacy” (B. Berkson, “Yayoi Kusama: Center for International Contemporary Arts,” Artforum, Summer 1990, https://www.artforum.com/print/reviews/199006/yayoi-kusama-60547). Here, Kusama melds the pumpkin with her Infinity Net technique and imagery, revealing her painterly skill as much as her penchant for bold forms. Pumpkin is surrounded by the rhythms of Kusama’s contiguous triangular forms. It is as if the pumpkin is a planet surrounded by stars, its gravitational force exerting its power on the painting itself, as well as on the viewer. Like her mentor Georgia O’Keefe, Kusama uses natural, biomorphic forms to speak to the embodied history of painting.
With its complex references to the body, the present work illustrates Kusama’s empathy. As she says of the pumpkin, “It seems that pumpkins do not inspire much respect, but I was enchanted by their charming and winsome form. What appealed to me most was the pumpkin’s generous unpretentiousness” (Y. Kusama, Infinity Net, trans. R. McCarthy, London, 2011, p. 75). Pumpkin shows us that anything that we approach with love and fascination can become art—a Warholian gesture and an act of generosity. The pumpkin functions as a self-portrait for Kusama, and an unexpected symbol of passion and struggle. For her, the pumpkin is a symbol of comfort and optimism, “I love pumpkins…because of their humorous form, warm feeling, and a human-like quality and form. My desire to create works of pumpkins still continues. I have enthusiasm as if I were still a child” (Y. Kusama, qtd. in Phaidon Editors, “Why Does Yayoi Kusama Love Pumpkins?,” 2017, https://www.phaidon.com/agenda/art/articles/2018/march/21/why-does-yayoi-kusama-love-pumpkins/).
Painted during a pivotal moment for the artist, Pumpkin defines Kusama’s meteoric rise within the United States and Europe. In 1989, the artist had her first critical survey at the Center for International Contemporary Arts, New York, and in 1993, Kusama was selected to take part in the Venice Biennale, exhibiting a pumpkin-filled Infinity Room. The 1990s concluded with her lauded retrospective, organized by the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and the Museum of Modern Art, New York, that travelled to the Walker Art Center Minneapolis and the Museum of Contemporary Art, Tokyo.
Kusama writes, “I am deeply interested in trying to understand the relationships between people, society, and nature; and my work is forged from accumulations of these frictions” (Y. Kusama, Infinity Net: The Autobiography of Yayoi Kusama, London, 2011, n.p.). Nowhere is this clearer than in Pumpkin, which combines the earthly and the cosmic. It reminds us of the interconnectedness of all things, even a humble gourd. It is impossible to overstate her influence by setting the stage for more authentic and autobiographical discussions of postwar and contemporary art. Kusama has always been fearless in her paintings and unafraid to gesture toward the unknown. Pumpkin, both familiar and fantastical, provides a portal to unknown realms.
There is also something tangible about Pumpkin. Critic Bill Berkson writes that Kusama’s white paintings “are like skin asserting a tender yet solid primacy” (B. Berkson, “Yayoi Kusama: Center for International Contemporary Arts,” Artforum, Summer 1990, https://www.artforum.com/print/reviews/199006/yayoi-kusama-60547). Here, Kusama melds the pumpkin with her Infinity Net technique and imagery, revealing her painterly skill as much as her penchant for bold forms. Pumpkin is surrounded by the rhythms of Kusama’s contiguous triangular forms. It is as if the pumpkin is a planet surrounded by stars, its gravitational force exerting its power on the painting itself, as well as on the viewer. Like her mentor Georgia O’Keefe, Kusama uses natural, biomorphic forms to speak to the embodied history of painting.
With its complex references to the body, the present work illustrates Kusama’s empathy. As she says of the pumpkin, “It seems that pumpkins do not inspire much respect, but I was enchanted by their charming and winsome form. What appealed to me most was the pumpkin’s generous unpretentiousness” (Y. Kusama, Infinity Net, trans. R. McCarthy, London, 2011, p. 75). Pumpkin shows us that anything that we approach with love and fascination can become art—a Warholian gesture and an act of generosity. The pumpkin functions as a self-portrait for Kusama, and an unexpected symbol of passion and struggle. For her, the pumpkin is a symbol of comfort and optimism, “I love pumpkins…because of their humorous form, warm feeling, and a human-like quality and form. My desire to create works of pumpkins still continues. I have enthusiasm as if I were still a child” (Y. Kusama, qtd. in Phaidon Editors, “Why Does Yayoi Kusama Love Pumpkins?,” 2017, https://www.phaidon.com/agenda/art/articles/2018/march/21/why-does-yayoi-kusama-love-pumpkins/).
Painted during a pivotal moment for the artist, Pumpkin defines Kusama’s meteoric rise within the United States and Europe. In 1989, the artist had her first critical survey at the Center for International Contemporary Arts, New York, and in 1993, Kusama was selected to take part in the Venice Biennale, exhibiting a pumpkin-filled Infinity Room. The 1990s concluded with her lauded retrospective, organized by the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and the Museum of Modern Art, New York, that travelled to the Walker Art Center Minneapolis and the Museum of Contemporary Art, Tokyo.
Kusama writes, “I am deeply interested in trying to understand the relationships between people, society, and nature; and my work is forged from accumulations of these frictions” (Y. Kusama, Infinity Net: The Autobiography of Yayoi Kusama, London, 2011, n.p.). Nowhere is this clearer than in Pumpkin, which combines the earthly and the cosmic. It reminds us of the interconnectedness of all things, even a humble gourd. It is impossible to overstate her influence by setting the stage for more authentic and autobiographical discussions of postwar and contemporary art. Kusama has always been fearless in her paintings and unafraid to gesture toward the unknown. Pumpkin, both familiar and fantastical, provides a portal to unknown realms.