Inside Lito and Kim Camacho’s museum with bedrooms

It may sound like one of the episodes of British TV series Urban Myths that imagines delicious encounters with pop culture icons (Samuel Beckett, Muhammad Ali, Bob Dylan, Andre the Giant) — although in this case it really happened. How many people in the world can say they had moon cakes with one of the world’s most celebrated living artists, the Japanese avant-garde icon Yayoi Kusama? Well, art-loving couple Lito and Kim Camacho recall how it in fact happened. 

“We visited Yayoi Kusama in her studio four or five years ago,” shares Lito, formerly the Arroyo administration’s Secretary of Finance and currently vice chairman of Credit Suisse in Asia Pacific. “As you know Kusama confined herself voluntarily in a mental institution because of mental issues.” The artist has taken up permanent residence at the Seiwa Hospital for the Mentally Ill in Shinjuku, Tokyo since 1977. Her studio is about a hundred meters away. On good days, she will walk to the studio and work on paintings, sculptures, prints, boxes, assemblages and installations. Ota Fine Arts set up the meeting between Kusama and the Camachos.

Lito says, “We thought that it would be a very brief encounter — a photo-op with Yayoi, with her signing a book or two, and in 10 or 15 minutes we would be shooed away (laughs). She is a very busy and intense person. Kim and I were delighted that she spent two-and-a-half hours with us.”

The artist took the Camachos around her studio, even to the stockroom where Kusama had her people show artworks to the couple. She talked about each one — inspirations, back stories, etc. Afterwards, they all went to the office to have tea and, yes, moon cakes.

Kim says, “We were still living in Singapore then, and it was during the August Moon festival when we visited Yayoi. I heard how she loves sweets, so we brought her moon cakes that come in those beautiful boxes.”

Kusama doesn’t enjoy being in social situations, but it helped that when the Camachos visited, Kim was wearing an all-“Louis Vuitton X Yayoi Kusama” outfit — from sunglasses to shoes, from handbag to mackintosh. A walking installation of dots and shiny, hallucinogenic colors.

“The works, actually!,” shares Kim, laughing. “So when Yayoi saw me, she had a big grin on her face. She usually doesn’t want to see people when she’s working. Her people are strict when it comes to screening visitors. But Yayoi had heard of Lito and me. In front of her was a Japanese magazine that was opened to the page where our picture was. We told her we’d been to Matsumoto which is her hometown.”

It all started in 2004. Lito had just left his post as Finance Secretary, and the Camachos had gotten an invite for a trip to Tokyo by the Japanese government. The husband had to attend meetings with parliamentarians and businessmen, while the wife visited museums and exhibitions — from the Impressionists to an Andy Warhol pop-up show. It so happened that Tokyo’s National Museum of Modern Art was exhibiting Yayoi Kusama’s “Eternity-Modernity.” It was Serendipitous Moment No. 1.

Kim was lost for words and overwhelmed by the power of Kusama’s art. “My husband should see this,” she told herself. The couple went to the show together, both were similarly touched and awed by works such as “Fireflies on the Water.” Kim would characterize it as a “mystical experience” and “like ascending a ladder to heaven.” Difficult to acquire, quite expensive — two phrases that dissuaded the couple from contemplating on starting a Kusama collection. 

In 2005, Lito took on the job at Credit Suisse in Singapore, with Kim scheduled to join him promptly. The husband found new digs for them in the Lion City. One day, Lito received a polka-dot designed postcard addressed to the previous resident of the house they were staying in. It was an invitation to a Kusama exhibition at the Art-2 Gallery. That was Serendipitous Moment No. 2.

On the last day of exhibition, Kim went to the gallery to meet Lito straight from the airport after her flight from Manila. One of their very first purchases was an “Infinity Nets” painting. That was the start of their journey, their love affair with Kusama.

Today, the Camachos have one of the largest collections of Yayoi Kusama artworks in the world (oils, acrylics, prints, sculptures, dresses, shoes and rare artifacts), regularly lending pieces to museums when they hold Kusama retrospectives. In fact, some of the Kusama artworks are being borrowed by the National Gallery of Singapore for a June exhibition, while a beloved piece (“Silver on the Earth,” a 1990 artwork comprised of dress, hanger, found objects, stuffed sewn fabric and silver paint) is currently at The National Art Center in Tokyo along with a pair of golden shoes attached with penises. (Penises on shoes, penises on ironing board… Kusama puts penises on every day objects.)

Thus, the moment visitors enter the large antique door from Rajasthan of the Camacho house, right past the 1998 Yayoi Kusama sculpture titled “Statue of Venus Obliterated By Infinity Nets,” they would think they had been removed to a veritable museum with miles upon miles of wall space, furniture pieces that are either elegant (a plush sofa, a piano) or quirky (a poodle stool, pumpkin throw pillows); pheasant birds a-chirping in an aviary; Kusama spots, tentacles, mirror boxes and penises everywhere. Artworks by Japanese Guitai artists also hold court. In one of the bathrooms are two risqué Nobuyoshi Araki photographs of Lady Gaga in kinbaku-style bondage; there is another pair of Gaga X Araki pieces in one of the kids’ bedroom. A space at the front of the house, Kim informs us, is reserved for a commissioned “Cloud Canyon” piece by legendary Filipino conceptual artist David Medalla. Curating is a family pastime in this “museum-with-bedrooms” home.

Kim says they bought the house when the couple was still living in Hong Kong in 1988. Before its extensive renovation, the Camacho home was a one-story bungalow made up of large heavy wood. It was so dark that even in the daytime the electric bulbs needed to be switched on. “We didn’t have natural lighting — it was like a tunnel with bedrooms on the side,” describes Kim. “By the time we left for Singapore, Lito already had architectural plans made, with Anton Mendoza as the architect.”

The direction was for the layout of the house to not be labyrinthine, since Kim confesses that she has poor sense of direction. She wanted a house that would be easy to navigate, where you can practically see every room, know where everything is. “Even in hotels, I get lost getting back to our room. Many times in bathrooms, I can’t find my way out (laughs). I open broom cabinets, the restaurant kitchen, (laughs). I hate malls that have a complicated layout.”

If there are houses that are color-coded, the Camacho house has specific art themes for each room. Kusama dominates the living room. Oriental art is on view in one room; homegrown National Artists and modernists at the second floor halls. A guestroom has Manny Baldemor, Tam Austria and Norma Belleza paintings go side by side with antique santo statuettes. The Camachos also have an extensive collection of Persian carpets, Chinese burial pieces, monster fishes, as well as antique furniture. But the entire household is dominated by dots. One of the oldest in the collection is a painting from 1952 where Yayoi made the crucial decision that the dots alone constitute the artwork. 

“I love the fact that she can display her genius in a variety of media, and she is an artist of many contradictions,” explains Kim. Just take a look at this painting of sperm, she adds. “One time, Father (Fernando) Suarez was here and he asked me to talk about the Kusama paintings. I told him, ‘This one is an imagery of human beings — you can see sperm cells there. While that one is entitled “Sex Obsession” — which is like an orgy of snakes,’” she says, laughing.

A trip to Tokyo that coincided with an exhibition. An invitation to a show  intended for a previous tenant. An afternoon of tea and moon cakes shared with the Polka Dot Princess in a studio near a Tokyo sanitarium. The hunt for elusive pieces to complete the collection. What a lovely and strange journey it has been for the Camachos and their obsession with all things Kusama.

 “As Kim would say: ‘Kusama chose us; we did not choose Kusama.’ Yayoi found a way to find us,” says Lito inside his home filled with love, invisible Venus, and an infinity of dots.

Third time’s a charm

Did you know Lito Camacho proposed three times before Kim Camacho (née Acuña) finally said yes?

Both were studying at the Harvard Business School in Boston when they met for the first time. Lito was going to major in Finance, while it was International Business for Kim.

Why three times?

Kim answered, “Well, the first time he proposed was one month after he met me (laughs). So, I told him, ‘You got to be kidding! You don’t even know me.’ Lito had gatecrashed Kim’s dorm party, and was smitten right away. He was tall and Ichabod Crane-like: standing 6’1” and weighing 140 pounds. He was even taking appetite-stimulants. Six months later, he proposed again. He promptly got a no. 

Kim shares, “I told him ‘I will not marry you until you weigh 180 pounds.’” Thus, it was a steady diet of Cadbury bars, milkshakes and quarter-pound burgers at the Harvard cafeteria. (Spoiler alert: on the day of the wedding, Lito weighed in at 182.)

What made her say yes?

“We got officially engaged the day before my graduation,” she recalls. “My father (Atty. Arsenio Al. Acuña) refused to come to the States for my graduation because he’d heard I had a boyfriend and was afraid Lito would ask for my hand in marriage. My mother said, ‘You know your father had stopped smiling for six months?’”

Kim’s dad eventually relented and visited the recent Harvard grads. “After dinner at my guardian’s house, Lito told my dad, ‘Could I have a word with you in private?’ They went to the living room and the rest of us were thinking, ‘Oh my God, it’s going to happen!’”

When the two men returned, they had big smiles on their faces. Lito got the golden ticket.

How did he manage to convince Kim’s dad?

She smiles and shares, “Lito promised my father, ‘I may not be able to give your daughter the lifestyle she’s used to, but I will certainly try my best.’ My father immediately warmed up to him.”

That night in America, the couple, Lito and Kim, had infinity right in front of them.