This Octopus Eats Its Own Leg — and Dazzles: Japanese Pop Art Star Stuns Fort Worth’s Finest in a Rocking Opener

When I got the text from a dear friend, Andrea Karnes, asking if I was free to be her plus-one for the opening dinner of “The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg” — a major retrospective of work by internationally renowned Japanese artist Takashi Murakami —my answer came swiftly: “What time should I show up at your house to get ready together?” I replied.

Andrea is the senior curator at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth so I knew our seats would be top-tier.

Walking in to The Modern that night was unlike any of my visits to the museum in recent memory. Murakami’s team had taken over virtually every open wall to install site-specific prints. I can’t help but smile whenever I encounter the artist’s bold and colorful work. Hopefully you are familiar with his art, perhaps through his collaborations with Louis Vuitton (remember the sell-out series from 2002?) or his album cover for Kanye’s 2007 Graduation.

Murakami is known for blurring the line between high and low — perfect for me since that is how I live my life. He coined the term “superflat,” which describes the aesthetic characteristics of the Japanese artistic tradition and the nature of his country’s post-war culture and society.

“Superflat” was also the title of the wildly popular 2001 exhibition curated by Murakami, which included his work and others that floated within the same realm. (I saw “Superflat” while it was installed in Los Angeles at the Museum of Contemporary Art.)

As I have been a massive Murakami fan for close to 20 years (that “Superflat” show really did it for me), it was magical wandering through The Modern that night. I saw many old friends, including the oft-appearing character, Mr. DOB (Murakami’s alter ego). And I also made many new friends.

For mature audiences only: If you are looking for the most tantalizing works (tee-hee), head straight to the galleries where My Lonesome Cowboy and Hiropon are on view. I shall say no more.

The VIP dinner was set for just 200 guests. We heard no more than 80 people made up the Fort Worth-based art contingent (Allie Nikolaisen, Asad Dean, Vernon Fisher and Julie Bozzi, Allison and Terry Montesi), while the rest of the bunch — megawatt collectors, gallerists, global dignitaries and longtime Murakami devotees — came from our of town.

Of course, there was a tiny flock of Dallasites who made the trip, including Capera Ryan, John Runyon, Michael Corman and Kevin Fink, Lisa Dawson and Tom Maurstad, and Wendy and Jeremy Strick. For the rest of the Dallas crew, the magnificently generous Nancy Rogers (a noted arts supporter) hosted a private dinner and tour of the exhibition at The Modern the following week.

Lucky me. Andrea and I were together at the head table. Our seatmates included curator Michael Darling from the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago, which organized the exhibition; Kim and Glenn Darden, the former is board chair for The Modern; renowned Parisian gallerist Emmanuel Perrotin; and finally, the man-of-the-hour at the head of the group, Takashi Murakami.

After some remarks from The Modern’s director, Marla Price, the artist took the podium. I loved the stunned looks from Fort Worth’s finest as he began speaking in Japanese. Immediately following, however, his translator — who was always by his side — shared his speech in English.

Is Murakami actually more fluent in English than he let’s on? Who knows. But I will say, the whole artist-with-a-translator thing makes it all the more enchanting.

At the stroke of 10 pm an after-party commenced in the museum’s sculpture garden. The scene was lit up in a kaleidoscope of colors, with mix-masters DJ Sober (it makes me giggle every time I hear the name of his production company, Booty Fade) and A-Trak keeping the adrenaline pumping. One of my favorite hip hop dance crews, the Jabbawockeez, also performed. For those with enough stamina, the evening finally ended with an after-after-party at the Fort Worth speakeasy, Ampersand.

OK, so, to answer your question — and the question inevitably posed by the exhibition’s title, “Can an octopus eat its own leg?” Yes, after some Internet research I found that the eight-legged sea creatures have been known to eat limbs sometimes due to a neurological disorder or weirdly enough out of stress or boredom.

After some rapid-fire texting to Andrea and Alison Hearst (The Modern’s assistant curator) they both confirmed my biology research was, in fact, correct.

“The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg,” through September 16th at Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, www.themodern.org