Posts Tagged ‘Linda McCartney’

Art Is Dead Baby: The Tate Modern UBS ‘Long Weekend’

Wednesday, May 27th, 2009

After its sponsor UBS AG went into near financial meltdown, Tate Modern named this year’s UBS Long Weekend ‘Do It Yourself’ (22-25 May 2009) and based it around an Arte Povera exhibition. UBS is both a private and investment bank, as well as an asset management corporation. In the past it has been a major sponsor of the arts, but is unlikely to remain so for much longer.

After incurring huge losses on subprime mortgage securities in 2007, UBS only survived after it secured a multi-billion dollar bail out from the Government Investment Corporation of Singapore (GISC) and an unnamed source in the Middle East.  At the end of last year, after even more disasters, UBS managers pledged to return bonuses and shareholders voted to accept financial aid from the Swiss government. This is supposed to restore trust in UBS. It won’t in the long term. UBS made advance commitments to its Tate sponsorship, but given the financial shape this corporation is in, it seems unlikely it will be renewing them. UBS has already cut back on its own art collecting activities, and has let go of its collections curator Joanne Bernstein (who is now doing some far more interesting freelance work, see my earlier blog that summarizes her contribution to Performing Localities).

The art world is part and parcel of the financial world. When high finance catches a cold, local art scenes react as if they’ve got the plague. An institution like The Tate is particularly vulnerable because it has few resources beyond its brand. It has no real money, its art collection is full of holes and its director Nick Serota is committed to ongoing and massive expansion without the resources to sustain such a programme. The maths simply doesn’t add up, and every day it seems more likely that the unstable stack of cards that is The Tate could collapse.

In an attempt to cover up this fragile state of affairs, Serota is attempting to attract ever larger crowds to Tate Modern. The big draw this year during the UBS Weekend was a recreation of the 1971 work Bodyspacemotionthings by Robert Morris. Tate Modern promoted this as art you can touch. It got a lot of media coverage. I even heard it reported on local London radio news but without the name of the artist or his work mentioned. Bodyspacemotionthings looks remarkably like a commercial soft play space aimed at small children, but without the padding one might expect. Nothing wrong with that, and there were loads of kids in Tate Modern having a lot of fun. Art is dead baby and Tate Modern is now an adventure playground.

So rather than waiting for The Tate’s money to run out, let’s allow kids to run riot through all its Bankside galleries, taking the canvases down from the walls and treating them as toys. As for the curators, I’m sure most of them would rather be doing something useful – like running a nursery that gives kids a good time – than handling art. Duchamp suggested using the Mona Lisa as an ironing board, but actually it makes more sense to use old and modern ‘masters’ as den walls and capes…. And once the kids have gone home, as suggested in an earlier blog, we can have nudist nights at Tate Modern.

The entire Tate Modern treated as a play space would have been much more fun than the UBS Weekend as I experienced it. There were a lot of people sitting on the grass by The Thames, not really listening to the bands playing on a stage. I spent most of the time I was there talking to people like Laura Oldfield Ford and Dan Mitchell. I was introduced to a shed load of new faces by their first names, so beyond Paul Sakoilsky – who gave me a copy of his newspaper The Dark Times – I can’t properly identify them here. The event was very much a case of create your own entertainment, and while all those around me were downing beers, they didn’t appear to consider what they were doing ‘drinking sculptures’. That said, since we did ‘do it ourselves’, that is create our own entertainment, The Tate’s ‘anti-corporate’ arte povera shindig simply proved the obvious – the institution of art is utterly redundant. Given this, it is hardly necessary to add that Tate director Nick Serota would make a much better clown if he donned face-paint and a red nose.

After writing the above, I picked up the following email from Selina Jones: “I hope you all had a fab time at The Long Weekend. Over 100,000 people came down! For those of you who didn’t make it or who want more, I have good news! The amazing Robert Morris installation will now be opened for an extended period – until 14th of June. That is 3 more weeks of having an excuse to play, even if you are technically a fully grown adult.” Yes, Tate Modern no longer even attempts to cover up the fact that art is infantilising. Who needs an excuse to play? It’s time for some ‘serious’ redecoration at Bankside!

If you haven’t done so already, you might like to check out my posts about the low quality of recent events at Tate Britain too: Bourriaud’s ‘Altermodern’, an eclectic mix of bullshit & bad taste and 5,494 Linda McCartney Vegetarian Sausages For Nicolas Bourriaud.

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check - www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!

5,494 Linda McCartney Vegetarian Sausages For Nicolas Bourriaud

Sunday, January 18th, 2009

As a taster for their 2009 triennial  ‘curated’ by Nicolas Bourriaud (AKA Boring Ass), Tate Britain hosted a series of talks concluding with one this weekend by the International Necronautical Society (INS). For their 17 January shindig, the INS hired actors to play General Secretary Tom “Thunderbird” McCarthy and Chief Philosopher Simon “Hip Hugger” Critchley. The event sold out well in advance because a sensation hungry public were under the entirely false impression that they would be personally addressed by this notorious pair of lobster loving nude chefs. Despite Radio 4 (Today programme, 29 December 2008) making the outrageous claim that McCarthy is widely recognised as a best-selling novelist, the majority of those present appeared blissfully unaware of the fact that the thespians pretending to be the notorious INS nude chefs were Sexton Blakes!

Before the Gilbert & George clones posing as Thunderbird and the Hip Hugger launched into the main act, the INS pulled their masterstroke by having a luvvie impersonating Nicolas Bourriaud introduce them. The actor playing Boring Ass boasted over-lovingly tousled hair and covering his back (but not his arse) was a truly shitty piece of ‘designer’ knitwear in grey marl with buttons running down the sleeve. The fake Bourriaud proceeded to camp it up outrageously in his impersonation of an inept and self-important curator, and used a thick but phony French accent to render his ‘Franglais’ incomprehensible. This had those of us who have seen the ‘English’ ‘translation’ of Bourriaud’s book Relational Aesthetics, rolling in the aisles. Indeed, my body was so racked by laughter that I failed to write down a single word of the parody Bourriaud speech. Fortuitously a brief sample from Relational Aesthetics (page 29), the text the INS piss-take was modelled upon, will convey its flavour: “Pictures and sculptures are characterised by their symbolic availability. Beyond obvious material impossibilities (museum closing times, geographical remoteness), an artwork can be see (sic) at any time. It is there before our eyes, offered to the curiosity of a theoretically universal public. Now, contemporary art is often marked by non-availability, by being viewable only at a specific time…”

Having lampooned Bourriaud so mercilessly, whatever the INS did next was bound to disappoint and it will surprise few readers of this blog that the impersonators playing Thunderbird and the Hip Hugger were deliberately saddled with a lecture that was more suited to the printed page than public performance. Despite endless ‘highbrow’ (AKA first year undergraduate) references to the likes of Plato, Joyce and Wile E. Coyote, the content of the talk can be summarised with a pair of old neoist slogans: “death is not true”, and ‘whenever someone utters the word authenticity you can be certain you’re dealing with a fake”. The content of the lecture was cannibalised from both earlier INS manifestations and the work of 1990s counterculture networks such as the Association of Autonomous Astronauts and the Luther Blissett Project. The harsh lighting and bland delivery created a post-humorous ambiance in which those members of the audience who did not know what was going on became the butt of this INS joke.

The answers for the Q and A session at the end had been pre-scripted, but this form of ‘democratic’ participation is so ritualised that few seemed to notice that the replies were read back rather than spontaneous. The first audience member to speak during the open mike session wittered on about the traditionalist imbecile Rene Guenon and denounced the INS lecture as ‘incoherent” (obviously not aware of the fact that this was its entire point). The next person to gain control of the mike that was being passed around expressed complete agreement with the INS; while a third specified the form in which he wanted his answers, and yet after getting them as scripted rather than as demanded, he still appeared unaware that these had been written in advance.

The Q and A was followed by drinks. The Boring Ass impersonator used this social as an opportunity to parade a trophy blonde who hung onto his arm before the public. While I was enjoying a tipple, a journalist from the TLS mistook me for Thunderbird. I assured her that I was not McCarthy and when she eventually persuaded someone to point him out, she apparently gave him a ticking off for the prank he’d just played. Literary types are still into nineteenth-century notions such as sincerity, and by using the INS as a vehicle to revive the merciless assault on authenticity that characterised the most interesting cultural currents of the 1980s and 1990s, Simon Critchley and Tom McCarthy are successfully distancing themselves from these bourgeois bores.

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/ – you know it makes (no) sense!