Yoko Ono at the Broad

Yoko Ono's Wish Tree installation in the Broad's grove of olive trees

The Broad's "Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind" revives a 2024 exhibition at Tate Modern. It's a big show covering a big career, with over 200 works spanning seven decades. For much of that time Ono was among the most famous of contemporary artists, less for her art than for her marriage to John Lennon, her anti-war and Feminist politics, and her tragic widowhood. Despite a résumé blending art, celebrity, and the Pacific Rim, this is Ono's first solo museum show in Southern California.

Installation view of Yoko Ono's Lighting Piece, 1955

Yoko Ono, Grapefruit (details), 1964
Ono first came to attention with typewritten instructions for "paintings" (which might more accurately be described as performances). A 1964 artist's book, Grapefruit, collected instructions devised from 1953 onward. Ono did not invent typewritten conceptualism, but her example was globally influential, not in the least in Los Angeles and its emerging art schools. 

Yoko Ono, Painting to Hammer a Nail (1962) in Grapefruit

Broad installation view of a 1965 David and Albert Maysles video documenting Yoko Ono's Cut Piece (1964) in Carnegie Hall, New York
There's a lot of text in the first few galleries. Then the show abruptly turns retinal, aural, and interactive. Ono's critical legacy rests in no small part with Cut Piece, a 1964 performance that debuted in Kyoto. The artist sat impassively as audience members were invited to take scissors and snip off parts of her clothing. Above is a still from video documentation (by David and Albert Maysles) of Ono's 1965 Carnegie Hall performance. 

Cut Piece is now read in Feminist terms, as a manifesto on the abjection of women. For what it's worth, this does not get much explicit support from Ono's statements at the time. She is quoted: "It was a kind of criticism against artists who are always giving what they want to give. I wanted people to take whatever they wanted."

Installation view of Yoko Ono's Apple, 1966
Maurizio Cattelan's 2019 Comedian (the duct-taped banana) is not too different from Ono's 1966 Apple, each playing on the irony of perishable produce as marketable art. Ono offered Apple for £200, promising "the excitement of watching the apple decay." A Cattelan banana went for $6.24 million in 2024. 
Yoko Ono, Painting to Hammer a Nail, 1961/1966
Ono was also ahead of the curve in audience-participation art. The sound of Painting to Hammer a Nail echos through the Broad's ground floor. 
Yoko Ono, Bag Piece, 1964
Yoko Ono, White Chess Set, 1966

Yoko Ono, Ceiling Painting, 1966

In Ceiling Painting's original realization, London gallery visitors were allowed to climb the stepladder and use a suspended magnifying glass to examine a painting on the ceiling. The painting contained the barely visible word YES. This work was the meet-cute for Ono and John Lennon. But at the Broad, the ladder is on a platform, off-limits to visitors. 

Ono's 1969 marriage to Lennon was her third (and Lennon's second), The couple's musical collaboration, the Plastic Ono Band, was dismissed by many rock critics and by some followers of Ono's art. The Tate/Broad exhibition argues for the significance of this phase of Ono's career. A listening station with album art and ephemera documents a through line from John Cage to Lennon's late-Beatles studio experimentation to the Plastic Ono Band and beyond. Lennon may have been the first to use the term "supergroup," describing the POB's kaleidoscopic roster. That included Eric Clapton, Keith Moon, Phil Spector (as producer), Frank Zappa, Billy Preston, Ringo Starr, and George Harrison—every Beatle except McCartney. Ono and Lennon told took the inclusivity further, insisting "You are the Plastic Ono Band."

"Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind" makes a case for a multimedia conceptualist who is both overexposed and underappreciated. It's at the Broad through Oct. 11, 2026.

Installation view of Yoko Ono's Add Colour (Refugee Boat), 1960/2016

Comments

Anonymous said…
Wasted my hard-earned cash on this show. Not for me.
Anonymous said…
I sometimes wonder if being very flaky is actually just another form of being a rube. Or if the absence of obvious technical skill is also a sign of a lack of creative skill. The opposite is certainly true.

Pre-Raphaelite artists had technical finesse down to a "T" but their creative style was way too reminiscent of Elvis-on-velvet.

As for creative types (Yoko Ono - including her music - or otherwise), Paris over 80 years ago was the hub of the visual arts, NYC more recently.

Meanwhile, the Jerry Perenchio collection perhaps is symbolic of France, while Yoko Ono is perhaps symbolic of LA (Groundhog-day-type comments or not).


craigfleharty, Instagram:
Went back a second time to the newly opened Geffen Galleries at LACMA. On second viewing, still loving the space. But the purpose of the space, the art, is not deeply resonating with me. There are moments, yes, but for 725 million dollars, one might expect more than moments. Will stay open minded and return for a third visit. Hoping it's a me not you problem. [End quote]


That Instagram comment is why I can easily see a percentage of visitors to LA's major public art museum giving it, at best, back-handed compliments or being polite instead of candid. A lack of enough skill and professionalism will strike various people as just the opposite of the special Raphael exhibit at the Met or the Mona Lisa at the Louvre.

I notice some of the metal clasps of objects on tables in the Geffen at least are color-matched to a vase or urn, while a larger work like the John Deare marble from the 1770s has black-metal wall clamps.

The black-metal support rods holding up the Pedro Reyes sculpture would be more "Jerry Perenchio" versus "Yoko Ono" if they were matched to the color of the artwork and concrete wall.

https://lamag.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/IMG_1779-1200x900.jpeg

If LACMA's staffers were more professional, such oversights wouldn't exist.

We is rubes. Oh, well.