London :: UK
Well, what do you do with your old power stations?
Places: Tate Modern
Coolest thing I did: Resisted the urge to yell out at the top of my lungs It's just a stack of bricks!
Coolest thing I didn´t know: They replace the installation in the main turbine room of the Tate Modern every year. It's kind of cool when it's empty.
OK, so I know I don't usually write about touristy things when I'm not on the road, but I haven't been to the Tate Modern in London since the very first month I was here last time (May 2000, back in the Dreamtime) and it's the most touristy thing I've done since I've been back. That and I don't go to see modern art very much and had some thoughts about it all.
For those who aren't familiar, the Tate Modern is the gallery the British government built out of a disused power station on the south bank of the Thames in order to house it's ever growing modern art collection, thus also freeing up more space to show all that pre-20th century stuff the Tate Britain had in storage somewhere. The building itself is very cool, with one half left completely open 5 stories up and the other with lots of galleries on various levels. The collection revolves a fair bit, because that's the thing with modern art, people keep making more of it. Once you draw the line and say "right, everything made after 1900 is modern art" then you've got one collection growing faster than the other. Dissected cows and poo in jars aside, I don't mind a bit of modern art, especially the older stuff. Which I know is a bit of an irony, bugger off.
What I like most about going around modern art galleries (it's something I first noticed in the MOMA in New York) is watching the people looking at the art. There are three main grades: clueless-but-open-minded (this is where I fit), dragged-there-by-significant-other (this is where I used to be) and self-proclaimed-expert (god help us all). The first grade tends to take a look at the piece of art, scratch their head a bit and then read that little sign next to it to try and figure out what the bloody hell it's supposed to be. They then read it, look back at it and then they either have a eureka moment when they figure out why this pile of egg cartons is called "monument to the soul" or they close off their faces and mumble something about it being crap. You can sit in the Tate and watch most of the room around you reading the signs and pretty much none of them actually looking at the art. The second grade involves someone who really, really does not want to be there but are doing it because they are either at the start of a relationship and trying to impress someone, or are well into it and have been dragged there against their will. These people can be made out by their eye-rolling, sighing loudly and the need to sit down every 5 mins and hold their head in their hands. I once ended a promising relationship because I would have much rather had a pint than drag myself through another room of canvases painted grey. Oh, how times change.
The last kind, of course, is the true believer. You can see them rapturously staring for hours at a stack of house bricks trying to work out how many formations are possible because that's what the artist intended when they got 50 grand for a stack of house bricks. Thankfully, this kind of person is rare, but they are fascinating to watch, but not for too long. It's all you can do to hold off the urge to run over and slap them when they pontificate to their rather bored boyfriend about the torrent of ideas flowing from three white lines on a blue background.
Despite the negative tone I've had all through this, I do think there are some clever things done with modern art. I read somewhere that modern art is supposed to shift some of the work of thinking about a piece of art from the artist onto the viewer, kind of outsourcing the ideas so they give you enough space to look at something and make up your own mind about what it means. Sometimes, you probably think of something the artist didn't intend, and that's probably a bit of a success. I like the idea of that, even if the reality doesn't always meet it. I think for me to appreciate something like that, the artist has to meet me half way. They have to do something that's actually a bit clever, and obviously clever before I can get anything out of it. People keep telling me Andy Warhol was a genius for taking crates of soup cans and putting them in an art gallery, and I'd tend to agree, but not for the same reasons. If someone can attract enough stooges to pay lots of money for something they could have got for nothing then he is a branding genius. That's not really my bag when it comes to art.
I think the trouble these days is all the new stuff that's being created is being looked at by proper art people, who tend to have a hive mind like appreciation for what's good art. I'm waiting for the day when someone points out that the emperor has no clothes and the British government just paid 75 grand for half a cow. What arty types tell us we should be liking, and what most of us like seems a world apart. I that tastes change, and I'm sure they said the same thing about Picasso and Monet (and probably Da Vinci, in his day) but unless I'm missing something, so much modern art is leaving too much to interpretation. I'm willing to be open minded, but I'm not going to admit that 6 canvases painted brown in a room is all that inspiring. Call me uncultured.
I can't help but think of the sketch on the new skit series from the cast of the old "The Fast Show" which is called "I saw you coming". It's about a small antique/art shop in Notting Hill that sells to rich, pretty and thick women. The proprietor says things like "this particular piece of wank is rather popular with your kind" and "it cost me nothing, but as your husband just sold his media company I'm going to have to price this at 50 grand", followed by the women whipping out their chequebooks. It works better on TV.
The best thing I reckon I saw in the Tate was this giant egg thing with a big bit cut out of it's side and a black shiny interior. As the viewer was standing right in front of it you can see a beam of light that is reflected from the roof that moves when you watch it. The little sign tells us this beam of light is the art, and an object in it's own right. Even though it sounds wanky, I did see what they artist was trying to do. More of that, less of the piles of old mattresses (the smell is supposed to be challenging the viewer about the wastefulness of consumer society. Oh SHUT UP!)