Thursday night, I randomly ended up at the Trafalgar Hotel after work with my pal Lindsay, who had tickets to the Bridge Art Fair -- a coming together of art galleries from around the world that set up shop in more than 80 nicely-curated rooms at the Trafalgar.
After having a few cocktails downstairs in the bar, we began our wander around 9pm. It's a cool concept. In some rooms the beds have been removed, in others, not, but each room boasts it's own collection (by gallery), and you can chat with the gallery owners/managers, and in some cases, the artists. I really liked much of what I saw, and surprisingly, a lot of the work (mostly all for sale) was relatively affordable, so it was nice to look at so many great pieces that you could actually consider buying (I did, however, walk away empty-handed).
I only made it through 2.5 floors before I had to call it a night, as my 3.5 inch heels were not feeling so friendly and I was shaking off the last of my Tokyo jetlag. But the fair is a clever idea, one that will also manifest itself in New York and Miami. For more information, you can visit www.bridgeartfair.com.
Saturday, my friend Carmen and I went to the Tate Modern to see Doris Salcedo's new work commissioned for the Tate's massive Turbine Hall. Titled "Shibboleth," it is a crack in the smooth concrete floor that starts as a hairline and runs the full length of the hall, going a few feet deep and wide in some areas. Despite much speculation, the Tate will not reveal if the crack was actually drilled into the floor of the museum, or if it was created on a "false" floor laid on top. From what I can tell, it looks like the real floor.
What's it all about? Here's the short of it: The work is supposed to "ask questions about the interaction of sculpture and space, about architecture and the values it enshrines, and about the shaky ideological foundations on which Western notions of modernity are built. In particular, Salcedo is addressing a long legacy of racism and colonialism that underlies the modern world. ‘The history of racism’, Salcedo writes, ‘runs parallel to the history of modernity, and is its untold dark side’. For hundreds of years, Western ideas of progress and prosperity have been underpinned by colonial exploitation and the withdrawal of basic rights from others. In breaking open the floor of the museum, Salcedo is exposing a fracture in modernity itself. Her work encourages us to confront uncomfortable truths about our history and about ourselves with absolute candidness, and without self-deception."
Pretty deep, huh? Well, despite the debates I have had with certain friends over this (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. OLLY.) and all the cheap jokes made at its expense (MOMA in NYC really deserved it, not these overly-practical Brits) I could totally buy what Ms. Salcedo is selling. I get it. But what I REALLY found compelling about it was the interaction people were having with it. In my opinion, art is ultimately successful if it makes people curious and starts them talking, and if it engages a large cross-section of people. The crack certainly delivers on that. The place was overrun with adults and children alike. Kids were down on their knees peering into the crack, some with small binoculars examing the crevices and the wire intermeshed with the concrete inside. Adults were straddling it and posing with it for photos. People were comparing it to other things, like the Grand Canyon (ok, that was me) and Georgia O'Keefe paintings (ok, that was me too, but there were other people doing it as well). People were trying to keep their kids from stepping into it. Other people were purposely stepping in it. At the end of the hall, the crack seems to continue, underneath the wall....so people were down on their knees, positioned with their heads upside down, trying to see where the crack went. There was lots of talk and hypothesising over how the crack was made. Was it real? How did they do it? How will they put the floor back right?
To see my very own personal pictures of Shibboleth/"the crack," click here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/catsview/sets/72157602421460316/
2 comments:
Art and its ‘value,’ as you have so meanderingly described, is all about what different people get out of it – beauty in the eye of the beholder, if you will.
I have been to Tate Modern on several occasions and each time I go I wonder if perhaps this will be the visit that sees me ‘get’ modern art. I always leave disappointed. Most of what’s on show holds little for me in the way of technical or any other endeavour. And most of what I have seen there is staggeringly forgettable.
That there is now a crevice in the floor of the turbine hall gives me one glimmer of hope: that the crack will become a chasm into which the whole building will collapse.
Art for me can be found in The National Gallery and its annex, the Portrait Gallery. I can happily spend a day wandering around there.
Oh Olly. The National Gallery and portraits. Ho Hum. So very....predictable.
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