Murakami Mania Hits Kyoto
Resellers cause nine-hour waits for the art-star’s latest exhibition opening.
Cover photo: Museum guests wait to see “Takashi Murakami Mononoke Kyoto” at the Kyoto City Kyocera Museum of Art, Kyoto, Japan (2024). Photo by Danny With Love.
Intro
Saturday, February 4th marked the opening of Takashi Murakami Mononoke Kyoto (村上隆 もののけ 京都), the first major show by the eponymous 62-year-old in Japan’s old capital. Excitement was dampened by groups of resellers who targeted the event for limited-edition trading cards — given to the first 50,000 visitors — and exclusive merchandise, causing dismal wait-times.
The exhibition was staged by the Kyoto City Kyocera Museum of Art (京都市京セラ美術館) to mark the institution’s 90th anniversary. This is Murakami’s first major show in his home country in about eight years. Inspired by Kyoto, the collection is comprised mostly of new art; 160 of the total 170 pieces were created specifically for the exhibition.
The most ambitious work is a 12-meter-long (39 feet) recreation of the Edo Period masterpiece Rakuchu Rakugai-zu Byobu (“Views in and around Kyoto”) by Matabei Iwasa (岩佐又兵衛). Murakami also makes reference to the Wind and Thunder Gods of the Rinpa School, maiko (apprentice geisha), and the August festival Gozan Okuribi (“Five Mountain Bonfires”).
Through topics of funding, resellers, and NFTs (digital art sales), the idea of money loomed over the exhibition. Murakami’s role as merchandiser has fully eclipsed that of artist.
Resellers VS Fans
I arrived promptly for the museum’s opening at 10:00. The line outside the door was already thousands of people long, snaking around the museum grounds. I decided to wait as I had come to Kyoto specifically for this occasion, promising myself to leave around noon if the queue didn’t move.
Initially, the line crawled forward, but after two hours it came to a halt; another hour later, the couple in front of me speculated about technical issues — perhaps there was a problem with ticket-scanners.
Two hours became four; around every corner the queue twisted in another direction. The line moved at glacial pace and yet I now felt too invested to leave. Museum staff offered no information about the problem or any estimates for when I might reach the end. I left only once for a bathroom break and some snacks from the nearest 7-Eleven.
The sun had set before I reached the entrance to the building! As I shivered in darkness I could only curse this insane situation. Then suddenly, a young man was caught cutting the queue in front of me. He claimed to have returned from the restroom, but no one recognized him. In that moment, the reason for delays became clear: while fans waited patiently, resellers were entering the exhibition not once, but multiple times to claim complimentary trading cards. Apparently, few people were bold enough to drive these resellers away.
On Mercari (メルカリ) — an online marketplace popular for second-hand goods — a single card is now listed at around 4,000 yen (approx. 27 USD), with users offering collections of multiple cards for over 50,000 yen (337 USD). Not a bad profit for free cards! It appears some resellers entered the exhibition as many as thirty times. Goods from the show’s exclusive gift-shop are also being sold over twice their retail value.
Coincidentally, Murakami appointed Mercari executive Tamonoki Hirohisa (田面木 宏尚) as an advisor to his company Kaikai Kiki, just months ago, to improve his own online sales operation.
Amsterdam’s Van Gogh Museum made international headlines last year when resellers caused frenzy amidst collaboration with Japanese company Pokémon. In San Francisco, the Asian Art Museum has also offered free trading cards to visitors for the show Murakami: Monsterized, though I am not aware of any problems with safety or delays.
The Kyoto City Kyocera Museum of Art was caught wholly unprepared for this scenario. There were maybe just five staff members outside monitoring the thousands-long queue and no data was collected upon entry to avoid repeat visitors — such as name, phone number, or email address. Thankfully, the museum remained open into the night for everyone permitted to enter the line.
I finally made it inside the exhibition by 19:00 (7:00 PM), a full nine hours after I had so naively entered the queue. I was nauseous, exhausted, and furious. I rushed through the — surprisingly small — exhibition and came to find many items at the gift-shop sold out. As I left an hour later, there were still hundreds of people waiting outside. Who is ultimately responsible for this mess?
In response to my email, the museum simply responded, “We deeply apologize for the inconvenien[ce] and chao[s].” No additional details were provided. It is not clear if, or when, the gift-shop will be restocked.
Generating Hype
Money played another role in the exhibition: production. Like his American predecessor, Andy Warhol, Murakami has never been shy to speak about finances. Disappointed by the limited budget of the public museum, Murakami found a novel way to raise funds for the show: Hometown Tax (ふるさと納税).
Through the Hometown Tax system, Japanese residents can make donations to local governments. Not only are these donations tax-deductible, but donors can specify how the funds are used, and also receive local gifts in return.
This is said to be the first time such a program has been used to support the arts. As of this month, Murakami has raised 300 million yen (approx. 2 million USD) for the exhibition. Due to its success, admission was made free for university, vocation, and high school students living in Kyoto.
“We have to think about how to increase Murakami’s audience,” explains COO of Kaikai Kiki, Shohei Sasaki (佐々木翔平). “If we don’t do anything, his audience will be fixed, and the number of people who will buy his works may decrease in the future. We believe it is important to gain recognition among the younger generation. That is why we targeted high school and university students with this gift.”
It appears these are the same groups who ruined the public’s experience for their own financial gain. Intentions aside, Murakami used public funds to stimulate demand for his products. Is this a novel business scheme or worse?
Kaikai Kiki did not respond to my request for comment.
