Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind: Tate Modern

I was about 10 when I first heard of Yoko Ono's art. A brother-in-law told me about the ladder piece leading to a small 'yes' on the ceiling, with the upmost derision and outrage. Remember that sort of attitude, that anyone could make that crap, and modern art is empty and stupid?

I was delighted to see that piece, Ceiling Painting/Yes Painting (1966), after so many decades, sitting there. For me, a poignant moment, and one of those star-struck experiences when in front of some art known well through reputation or images. There is was, still so full of potential, still poetic and direct.

There is work reminiscent of what you can still find anywhere you wander around an art school or graduation show, but here it is in its purest form, the conceptual ideas from Fluxus that artists are still working through since a century ago. Yoko Ono came from philosophy and her early connections with artists such as Marcel Duchamp and John Cage. We see in this exhibition her development of describing paintings and work in their most deconstructed forms, and then only showing the directions. There are several works created through instructions, including paintings for the viewer to imagine. 

It's fun, ridiculous, poetic, profound and performative to dress up as a shadow. It's also evocative of the shadows of the 20th century, still trailing into today. This is a woman who was a child in Japan during WW2. Again, the work can be read in multiple ways, and as an artist Ono is never heavy handed in proscribing meaning and interpretation.

I was reminded of early Ai Weiwei in Half-a-Room (1967). And other works, other artists. She is the light pencil mark, linking early conceptualism to contemporary practice.

Yoko Ono's work has changed and not changed over the years and decades. It constantly evolves and challenges, and yet stays consistent in its directness. Often artists who make an international career move into creating bigger works with higher production values, and in fact become like factories. That's marvellous, and produces work of great scale. Yoko has managed to forge a significant career where it's just her, her ideas, her practice, perhaps a microphone, a pen and paper, and production values within the grasp of most artists. She collaborates when it's appropriate, but it's concept first.

At any point in life, she has made work with just herself and the most direct and basic of materials - pen to paper, a microphone, her voice, her ideas. The reason the works resonate is because of the simple profundity, the pared down philosophy which is her discipline. It's not conceptual work just in the head - it's often touching, and there is no limit to how deep you can go with a light touch.

Cut Piece (1964) documents an event where the audience were invited to cut away pieces of her clothing. This is a film which is still very upsetting to watch, and in many complex ways. It's so eloquent, speaking of endurance, power, feminism and consent.   

Music of the Mind is quite a large show. There are fun pieces to participate in, small works to contemplate, raw and disturbing works, like mirrors to reflect your own thoughts and conceptions. It's quiet work, remarkably fresh and timeless, and well worth two hours of your time to take it all in.

The exhibition ends with a recording of Yoko and a microphone about 10 years ago when she was 80. If you already know her as a musician, you know how haunting her voice is. She voices the anguish of the soul, a screech and echo which you can only produce through pure authenticity in the moment.

In other news, this is a paid and timed ticket exhibition. I was lucky enough to go for free, but full price at £22 seems rather steep, don't you think?

Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind 

Tate Modern Bankside 

London SE1 9TG 

15 February to 1st September 2024

https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/yoko-ono