Detailing Yuko Tatsushima’s Canvas: The Artist Behind the Inspiration for the Internet’s Scariest Creepypastas

Words: Arya Nanda

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A masterpiece synonymous with female rage is Artemisia Gentileschi’s iconic painting Judith Slaying Holofernes - as the sword cuts through Holofernes’ flesh, you see Artemisia’s spirit living through Judith, severing the head of her convicted rapist Agostino Tassi. This visceral portrayal of righteous anger resonates across centuries. We see echoes of it in the works of  infamous artists like Aleksandra Waliszewska, where female figures embody a spectrum of emotions – vulnerability and vengeance, innocence and monstrosity, creating a uniquely charged atmosphere of female rage. When I came across Japanese painter Yuko Tatsushima’s grotesque works, I could sense that all-too-familiar feeling of repressed wrath washing over me.

If Gentileschi's rage simmers with righteous fury, and Waliszewska depicts touches of haunted desolation, then Yuko Tatsushima's work explodes with a potent blend of both outrage and a profound sense of feminine vulnerability.

Not much is known about the fifty year old’s personal life, but her website offers a glimpse into her artistic world, showcasing not only her paintings but also revealing her talents as a puppeteer, sculptor, and photographer. She states that the majority of her pieces are self-portraits, with the theme of atomic bombing also present. Her Twitter profile offers occasional mentions of events like her 2018 solo exhibition, "Allium." but gives us little information on her personal life, thoughts, opinions or personality - her last post dates back to July 2019. 
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With a mix of oil and acrylic, utilising a reoccurring visual language of red and black scratched on the background and blotchy bits of blues reminiscent of tears, Tatsushima delves into the complexities of female experience, exploring themes of sexual assault, grief, and her own struggles with Borderline Personality Disorder.

The exact year her work first gained traction is unclear, however, a specific piece titled "I can't be a bride anymore" became a turning point in her  recognition. This painting morphed into a popular creepypasta online under the name "Tomino's hell." It claimed the painting was cursed, sparking a wave of online interest and solidifying Tatsushima's place in the digital art world. This painting evokes a macabre fascination, a disturbing yet captivating scene. The bulging eyes, the unsettling grin, and the way the neck stretches out as if it were trying to break free of the body. Her torso is the immediate focus, drawing attention to the bloody crotch and constricting corset that emphasises her breasts. Someone has violated her. Her hands, possibly bound behind her back, hint at a struggle, adding another layer of vulnerability to the scene. The title itself resonates with the harsh reality of rape culture in Japan, where victims are often silenced and rape remains a taboo subject. 

Traditionally in Japanese culture, victims have been ostracised, deemed "impure" or unfit for marriage after experiencing sexual assault. This societal stigma is tragically reflected in the painting's central figure. When viewed in the context of stories like Shiori Ito's, a courageous journalist who went public with her allegations of rape in the documentary Japan’s Secret Shame, “I can't be a bride anymore" transforms into a potent symbol of silenced voices and the fight for justice. 

This theme of trauma continues in “White prison”, which depicts a pale figure, gazing into the darkness. Her dress is torn, her underwear is pulled down to her knees, she is grimacing, and her eyes are hollow. Her short, bow-adorned dress is reminiscent of the Lolita-esque children’s clothing. The trauma lingers, a chasm between her outward growth and the inner child unable to process the violation. 

Meanwhile her mannequin-like arms might be drawing a parallel to a Japanese ball jointed doll. These toys are designed to be extremely feminine and frequently have whimsical, childlike features and often are overtly sexualised by collectors. If Tatsushima is portraying a BJD doll here, she might be commenting on the horrors of stereotypical  —  performative femininity that often serves the pedophilic gaze.

In stark contrast to the grim narratives explored in the previous paintings, The piece named “Divine Comedy” stands out, delving into themes of faith and spirituality. It breaks from the usual dark colour palette, offering a visually distinct exploration. An ascension unfolds on the canvas, depicting the soul’s pilgrimage to the sacred realm. A lotus flower, a Buddhist symbol of enlightenment, hangs suspended above. Its traditional associations with purity and spiritual awakening seem at odds with the unsettling events on the canvas. 

The male figure descends from a seemingly heavenly place, clutching a scripture in one hand, offering the woman below salvation. However, his demeanour is less like a saviour offering guidance and more like a controlling force wielding authority. It raises a timeless question: Did a divine power create humanity, or did humanity - or a patriarchy seeking control - create the concept of God to justify a dominant social order?

It brings to mind a recent study by University College London - their research explored the experiences of five contemplative nuns who endured sexual abuse by priests and their subsequent spiritual journeys. The findings suggest that religious concepts of salvation, sacrifice, and forgiveness significantly impacted these women’s search for meaning.

Their trauma was woven into a symbolic religious narrative, shaping their identities and allowing them to navigate their existing relationships with the priests while reconstructing their core beliefs. Tatsushima paints with shades of anger and strokes of melancholy. Her works linger, their subjects seemingly trapped on the canvas, screaming accusations of “look what you did to me”.

Interestingly, online discussions surrounding Tatsushima's art reveal a potential gendered divide in interpretation. Analysis videos, predominantly created by male YouTubers, often focus on the unsettling and disturbing aspects of her work. However, comments on these videos frequently showcase a different perspective with female viewers expressing a sense of empathy and sadness for the figures depicted. 

These artworks make you confront the multifaceted horrors of femininity, encompassing the broader struggle for autonomy. The women depicted are  grappling with the insidious ways they're defined by external forces – oppressive structures, societal expectations, misogynistic abuse –  all while risking a loss of self in the fight against oppression.