Right here in London’s Tate Modern, somebody put infinity into a box.
Infinity is a puzzling concept that mathematicians and philosophers have wrestled with since the pre-Socratic works of Zeno. Though I am not among the league of intellectuals, I have myself had the joy of toying with the puzzle of infinity beyond dusty books and ancient studies, right here in London. On display in London’s Tate Modern is Yayoi Kusama’s eponymous exhibition. The retrospective exhibition, an overview of Kusama’s work, is a brilliant demonstration of the evolution of the chemistry between her eccentricity and the evolving national identity of Japan. While it is worth paying a visit to explore the themes of war, popular culture and feminism in Kusama’s work, I couldn’t help but latch onto an idea more universal – infinity.
The last piece of the exhibition is named the Infinity Mirror Room. You walk into a perfectly rectangular room with mirrors for walls. As you snake through the room on the angular path that traces the floor, you are bathed in a shower of lights – small circular neon balls the size of your thumb. The scores of tiny light bulbs drape down at various heights from the ceiling. Their colors repeat themselves in the walls. You see yourself in the mirror (no more than once because of the right-angled room). The lights fade for a moment, and you find yourself in the dark. Then the room comes alive in a new color. Fade. And now they’re pink.
Here in London, someone put infinity in a box. As I entered the box this spring, I could have been assaulted by any of a number of sensations. I could have been lost and confused, dumbstruck in awe, or excited and giddy. Instead, there was a surprisingly profound sense of peace. What Kusama brought to mind was the curious relationship between infinity and the individual. In the mirrored room, infinity was endless, but the individual was not. As long as I had existential value, I occupied one point in that infinite space – at that given time, that point belonged to me. It was with that thought that I left the museum, satisfied and at peace.
