Bill Viola: Hatsu-Yume (First Dream)
The Mori Museum chronicles the sublime visions of an artist influenced by Asia

The Crossing (detail), video/sound installation, 1996 Courtesy of The Ella Fontanals Cisneros Collection, Miami. Photo by Kira Perov

Five Angels for the Millennium (detail), “Departing Angel,” video/sound installation, 2001 Courtesy of The Ella Fontanals Cisneros Collection, Miami. Photo by Kira Perov

The Raft, video/sound installation, 2004 Courtesy of The Ella Fontanals Cisneros Collection, Miami. Photo by Kira Perov

On a ceiling-high screen at the center of a room, a lone man walks forward out of a formless darkness. He stops after a few steps, and on one side of the screen water begins falling over him; on the opposite side, a flicker of flame grows to engulf his body. The audio reaches a crescendo and the light from the video overtakes the room’s darkness. Slowly, the man completely disappears into the increasingly violent torrent of elements.

The Crossing (1996) is American video artist Bill Viola’s powerful vision of transcendence in which the technology equals the image and cuts into the viewer. Here it is the sentinel calling visitors to enter the Mori Art Museum’s latest exhibition.

Although “Hatsu-Yume” is the first retrospective of Viola’s work to be presented in Asia, there is a lingering connection between his imagery and the culture of Asia and Japan. Inspired by the Zen writings and artistic influences that leaked into America in the ’70s, Viola came to Japan in 1981 as part of a cultural fellowship.

It was then that he created the single-channel video Hatsu-Yume, from which this exhibition’s title is derived.

In Viola’s recent works, however, one finds a more subtle and philosophical tone. Within them there is an enduring view of nature and the universe that undoubtedly has Japan in its heart. At once painterly and sensually overwhelming, the works pulse with an iconic dynamism that captivates through its brazen appeal for meaning.

Among the most powerful of these is The Raft (2004), in which a diverse group is suddenly caught in a deluge of rushing water. The viewer watches in slow-motion as people are pummeled and then gradually recover from this abrupt burst of carnage. It’s a skin-tensing look at human emotion in which we find so many connections to not only recent acts of terror and war, but the entirety of violence in human experience.
Another riveting piece, Observance (2002), features a line of onlookers at what might be a funeral. One by one they move to the front and are overcome with emotion as they gaze at an unknown point. Resonating with Viola’s profound sense of color and drama, the work is a stirring portrayal of our relationship to pain and tragedy.

Unusual for the Mori is the relatively few works in this exhibition. While the museum has become well-known for packing art into its spacious rooms, “Hatsu-Yume” is decidedly spare. In several rooms, a single iconic video allows a piece to form a surprising convergence of moving images and architectural presence. We are washed over by the light of the screens in each dark space, and the glow pulls us into the work and the unfolding scene within it.

Viola has said that he envisions the exhibition as a gift for the people of Japan, a way of giving back to a culture that has so inspired him. Wrapped in the cathedral-like halls of the MAM, “Hatsu-Yume” is a profound and truly welcome present.

The Mori Museum of Art, until Jan 8. See exhibition listings (Akasaka/Roppongi) for details.

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