Ties to Spirituality and Buddhism

From the dozens of Buddhist references that can be seen in the Esoteric Cosmos alone, one can see that Mori intentionally inserts spirituality into her work. While it is unclear whether Mori grew up in an overtly Buddhist or religious household, she once stated that she is not a Buddhist monk and seeks a different kind of enlightenment. Her motivation was in seeking enlightenment as a human being and to be spiritually aware of certain things, such as her identity.^[93] This certainly doesn’t mean she needs to master an understanding or awareness of herself, but it indicates an ongoing journey of finding oneself and one’s identity as a human being. The elements and themes of spirituality were important to Mori’s growth and an ode to her nation, especially since she left Japan for a long period of time. However, they still serve as a comment on the society she left behind. Although she did return to Tokyo, much of her life and education took place way from the society she was born in. She recalls her roots throughout her work. Distancing herself from Japan likely allowed her to see elements of Japanese culture even clearer than if she had stayed. She takes from both Shinto and Buddhist elements throughout her oeuvre.^[94] Mori explores both traditional Japanese ideas and spiritual/Buddhist traditions but turns them into something otherworldly and bizarre. She’s also setting them into places or landscapes that are more familiar to a non-Buddhist or someone who doesn’t live in Japan. This goes back to the familiarity that Mori incorporates in her art to be able to connect with her audience. This geographical dislocation also allows for a kind of distance between herself and the viewer. The mix of futuristic avatars and icons of Japan’s historical and religious past highlights Mori’s concern about the differences between science and spirituality, traditional culture, and technology.

Mori stated in an interview in 2001 with Kunie Sugiura that she left Japan to seek freedom to express herself, saying that “Japan is a unified society which does not allow for individualism. It was difficult for me (Mori). In Japan, people try not to behave outside of common standards. You are constantly reminded not to step out of line. (I) did not accept that.”^[95] She was compelled to escape, and she did. However, the spiritual elements and Japanese tradition are her way of holding onto her Japanese identity and critiquing it. Britain was the beginning of her studies outside of Japan, opening her up to the subcultures of the UK. It was in this time that Mori started to understand self, nation, ethnicity, and gender, exploring the individualism that Japan did not allow for her to explore freely. The boundlessness that was New York allowed her to position herself at the center of the global art market and further explore these understandings.

Mori used her Japanese identity to her advantage in America. Japanese artists born after WWII were burdened with the pressure of tradition “in a homogeneous Japanese society.”^[96] She was respected and accepted internationally and drew the attention of the public to the abstract and spiritual side of Japanese culture, rather than the more well-known manga or anime side. Although she makes many references to cosplay, a phenomenon of Japanese pop culture where one dresses up like a character from manga, anime or computer games, the Esoteric Cosmos references religious traditions.^[97] The metaphysical and philosophical elements of Japanese culture can be seen in each of the Esoteric Cosmos, with Buddhist ideas of life cycles, rituals, tranquility, balance of the body and soul, Enlightenment, and Nirvana.^[98] As much as the cyborgs and fantastical elements of popular culture catch the eyes of viewers, so do the spiritual elements and traditional matters unfamiliar to most Western viewers. Mori sought to connect viewers not with ancient ideas but with their own contemporary lives through technology. In other words, Pure Land is a futuristic rendition of Buddhist tradition that surpasses the boundaries of time, place, and ethnicity. Although the hovering rainbow alien musicians are drawn from manga, all other elements are centered on nature, tranquility, and transcendence; all elements of Pure Land Buddhism and the path to the Pure Land. The “Esoteric Cosmos” speaks to the relevance of this tradition within Japanese culture and shows how Mori is deeply rooted in her Japanese identity, and not just to attract American or British views but to stay connected to her culture.^[99]

Mori’s use of her own body in many of her works invites a feminist reading as discussed in the introduction to this thesis. The scholarship and theory surrounding Cindy Sherman and role-playing are clearly connected to Mori and the feminist readings of her works. Although individuality was vital to Mori, it was rejected by a unified Japanese society that had strict and deep-rooted ideas about how women should act in society. In some instances, she presents a sexualized body that can be subject to the male gaze, but in others, she constantly references her Japanese identity, inviting viewers to almost “Orientalize” it, like they did at the 1997 Biennale, placing her in a pavilion amongst all-white Nordic artists.[100] This framed Mori as the “Oriental” and established a clear distinction between “us” (Nordic artists), and “them” (Japanese artist Mori).[101] In the Esoteric Cosmos, and Pure Land in particular, she uses her body and performance to explore identity and existence. The pinks, oranges and yellows of the Pure Land oasis indicate the oozing feminine energy, but as previously stated, it’s more than a cosplay fantasy world.

The cultural climate of Japan in the mid-1990s can contextualize the sexual, social, and economic implications of Mori’s works during this time. Cultural values shifted in Japan following World War II, and a reluctant acceptance of the American way became an imitation and worship of American culture. As scholar Jonathan Wallis notes, it’s important to address the concern of feminism associated with late-twentieth-century Japanese society since Mori is a hybrid of foreign and native influences.^[102] Mori’s work undoubtedly exposes layers of meaning that are “embedded in the discourses of late-twentieth-century Japanese culture: This oppression, exploitation, and complication of women at the time in Japan can be linked to the complex cultural climate of Japan in both the real and virtual worlds, and the exploitation of the entertainment industry in sexualizing and complicating the relationship of woman as image in mass culture within urban Japan.”^[103] the mid-90s.^[104] However, I feel like Pure Land and the Esoteric Cosmos series avoids this list, unlike any of her other series of works. Rather than portraying herself as a sexy cyborg or outwardly emphasizing female beauty, Pure Land works to create an experience that’s free from female exploitation.

Mori explains that people misread her work, thinking she creates a fantasy world to escape reality, but really, she believed that the synthetic world she created had its own reality and consciousness. In a 1998 interview with Kathryn Hixson for the New Art Examiner, Mori states that “it’s what you experience, what you feel, what you dream.”^[105]And much of it was rooted in reality; in spiritual tradition. Because of Mori’s Japanese identity, she believes that both men and women have defined gender roles. However, in Pure Land, I would argue that Mori removes any role that she was supposed to play, like Japanese culture expects of women, and instead soars towards the Pure Land. Mori sees passivity as powerful because you only receive something by being soft and “listening,” as defined by my previous term: “soft and strong.” Although this sounds like the opposite of a feminist reading, her self-identity connects to her self-deification in Pure Land by means of role-play and self-portraiture.

Continuing a Feminist Reading of Pure Land

Within this feminist reading, Mori’s work is not only about self-identity. Yuhang Li’s book Becoming Guanyintells the story of Buddhist tradition and the Bodhisattva. The book doesn’t explicitly mention Mori, but a connection can be drawn from Mori’s Pure Land and the self-deification she incorporates into the piece, to Li’s book and the story within it. Featuring herself in each element of the Esoteric Cosmos series makes an excellent case study on self-portraiture and self-reflection. Li’s research on women’s embodiment of self-identity and self-deification is paramount in understanding Mori’s Pure Land and her place within it. Guanyin first and foremost asks what Buddhist laywomen in late imperial China did to establish a connection “with the subject of their devotion,” Guanyin, the bodhisattva.^[106] Women connected to this Buddhist deity by reproducing her image by using parts of their bodies, female skills, and performance. Worshippers of Guanyin connected with her through processes of object-, self-, and world making.^[107]

Guanyin’s sex change also complicated the gender identities of her believers and established “a new framework for religious practice whereby the production of the devotee’s identity was interwoven with the ideologies and material practices that accompanies the reproduction of gender hierarchy.”^[108] Mori’s female identity was woven into her art production and practice, but also complicated this relationship and led to the mimicking of Guanyin through performance.^[109] Yuhang argues that, “although women’s lives were shaped by Confucian patriarchal expectations, Buddhism provides a space in which women could express themselves in alternative ways.”^[110] This will be further analyzed in a large portion of my study in the next chapter on Kimsooja, examining the differences in spirituality present in each artist’s work.

Guanyin’s manifestations ranged from the celestial world to the secular world, from human to divine beings, and from male to female. Much like Guanyin, Mori manifests her identity into many different beings through all her work. Specific to the Esoteric Cosmos, Mori transforms herself into “roles that encompass all hierarchical and gender differences,” which Yuhang uses to describe Guanyin.^[111] Like the natural elements and the path to enlightenment, the Esoteric Cosmos takes a long and gradual process, just as Guanyin’s feminization does.^[112] Appearing as a Bodhisattva or Guanyin, while also keeping identifiers of herself, Mori’s ability to get to the Pure Land is more tangible. In Pure Land Buddhism, the female body cannot be reborn in the Pure Land; therefore Mori’s self-deification as a Bodhisattva only makes sense.

 The line between feminist and spiritual readings in the work of Mariko Mori becomes quite blurry. Because spirituality has been a critical element in East Asian civilizations for centuries, religions explored in this thesis, such as Confucianism and Buddhism, have been significant to women and the building of their identities. They provided a window to the spiritual and material world that was largely beyond their reach under the surveillance and control of the Confucian patriarchy especially, and of post-war Japan. Consequently, religious art was one of the few genres wherein women artists thrived. It is through religion and understanding identity together that Mori reaches the Pure Land. Mori’s self-deification is a means of liberation.