The stories of her terrible childhood and of haunting hallucinations have created the widely accepted view that Yayoi Kusama's art emerges from unimaginable suffering. It is difficult to find anything said about Kusama that does not dwell on her mental illness and she herself does little to dispel this image.
In her new show at the Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo -- "Eternity-Modernity" -- the artist herself also writes in the preface of her "unbearable loneliness" and her "unceasing yearnings for suicide." Hence the emergence of a schadenfreude-driven appreciation for Kusama's work that just may be inappropriate.
Kusama, 75, is a living legend. Growing up in Matsumoto, Nagano Prefecture as "an unwanted child born of unloving parents," Kusama escaped to New York while in her mid-20s, and made a name for herself painting large canvases covered with "infinity nets" and creating "obliteration" art and happenings -- covering tables, chairs, naked hippies and even horses with polka dots.