Lichtenstein Retrospective at Tate Modern | Beyond Pop Art

Think Roy Lichtenstein is just about dotty cartoon pictures? A new retrospective at London’s Tate Modern will make you think again.

Masterpiece 1962 Private Collection © Estate of Roy Lichtenstein/DACS 2012

“I don’t care! I’d rather sink than call Brad for help!”

That’s the line from a speech bubble in Drowning Girl, one of Roy Lichtenstein’s most famous paintings, showing a crying girl struggling in a stormy sea as waves crash around her. It was painted in 1963, during the period when the American artist was preoccupied with two main themes, romance and war, depicted in vivid studies of comic book images. These melodramatic pop paintings would make Lichtenstein famous, and they’re still his most well known works today. But a new retrospective at Tate Modern, running until 27^th May 2013, reveals there’s far more to Lichtenstein than just cartoons and caricatures.

Born in 1923 in New York city, Lichtenstein worked right up until his sudden death in 1997. The exhibition spans the five decades of his career, starting with the earliest explorations of his signature style. Look Mickey, considered a breakthrough piece, is a painting of Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck fishing that Lichtenstein based on a picture he found in his sons’ comic book. This imperfect rendition, comprised of patches of primary coloured spots, set the artist on a path that led to his most famous pop paintings, of which there are also plenty on show at the Tate.

It’s thrilling to see these much-parodied paintings in the flesh, to experience the full visual impact of the rocket collision in the huge Whaam! (1963) and see that all those dots (they were created using something called a Benday screen) aren’t quite so uniform up close.

Whaam! (1963) © Estate of Roy Lichtenstein/DACS 2012

But what’s even more fascinating are the many rooms of lesser known, but equally visceral, works. Did you know Lichtenstein painted a great many landscapes and seascapes in his time? Or that he took the works of celebrated artists like Monet and Picasso and recast them in his own style? Or that in the 1990′s he painted a series of idealised cartoon-like nudes? Neither did I. It’s not all paintings either, there are ceramics too and a series of art deco brass sculptures.

Unless you’re already a Lichtenstein know-it-all, this exhibition is full of surprises and easily dispels the myth that he was a one trick pony. Plus, at the moment queues aren’t insane like they often are for Tate blockbuster exhibits – you’d do well to head down soon before word gets out.

The Roy Lichtenstein Retrospective at Tate Modern is open until 27^th May 2013. For ticket details visit the Tate Modern website.

Oh, Jeff…I Love You, Too…But… (1964) Collection Simonyi © Estate of Roy Lichtenstein/DACS 2012

If Paul Noble doesn’t win the Turner Prize 2012 it will be a travesty

Like a lot of people, I don’t really get the Turner Prize.

I mean, I understand that it’s a competition held annually by Tate in which a shortlist of four British artists is chosen, their works exhibited at Tate Britain, and then a winner is selected to receive the £25,000 prize money. I go to the exhibition every your, but more often than not I look at the art on show and think: really? This guy? Are you kidding me? Last year, one of the exhibits was an empty room into which snippets of Welsh folk songs were played. I think. I don’t know, but I was confused and it wasn’t enjoyable.

This year, however, it’s different.

This year, one artist eclipses all the others by such a margin that it’s a bit like if Jay-Z competed in a rap battle against 3 particularly inarticulate four-year-olds. That artist is Paul Noble.

I first came across Noble’s work in a gallery in Rotterdam with my Dad more than ten years ago. A teen at the time, I didn’t have a clue about modern art (whereas now I go to Tate Modern allll the time OK?), but on a trip to see a Dali exhibition (so, like, mainstream right?) we happened upon a room filled with huge but minutely detailed pencil drawings of Nobson Newton, a fictional townscape created by Noble. We were blown away, and I frequently thought about those amazing drawings over the years. So when I heard that Noble was nominated for the Turner Prize 2012 I was very excited.

Noble got  his Turner Prize nomination for a show featuring more fictional renderings of Nobson Newton, and they’re just as breathtaking, as I discovered when I went to the exhibition last Sunday. Each is centred around one word, written in a font that makes each letter look like a building. Whether on one sheet of A1 paper (i.e. big) or spread over 20 (i.e. HUGE), they’re astonishing. You have to get really close to divine all the details and to realise the time and patience that must go into them. Tiny boulders, overlapping crop circles, meandering plants in greenhouses – the landscapes of Nobson Newton aren’t familiar and they rarely make sense, but they’re beautiful to look at.

The other Turner entries pale in comparison, they really do. In fact, I’m struggling to even remember what they were. I think they were, essentially: 1. a bunch of tiny photographs from Scotland (Luke Fowler). 2. a video about a church that made me sleepy (Elizabeth Price), and 3. a room full of photocopying (Spartacus Chetwynd). There’s a chance I’m being slightly facetious, but you get my point. Hence, why I think it’ll be a travesty if Noble doesn’t take home the bacon this year.

Have you been to the Turner Prize exhibition yet? I would love to know if you agree with me. Or even better if you disagree. I just don’t know why anyone would though.

OUR DEMONSTRATION at GNM Gallery, King’s Place | Art and activism

OUR DEMONSTRATION is a exhibition project on the theme of art and protest that’s been a year in the making and we’re getting really excited about it – mainly because we know one of the curators, CSM student Miranda Booth. 

You can see the results of all their hard work at the GNM gallery at King’s Place – expect everything from Guardian archive photography, chewing gum art (see the poster above) and a riot in a jam jar i.e. a miniature recreation of student protests.

Those asked to participate works on creative resistance vary from unknown talent to more established, contemporary artists and all of this takes places in the foyer of the newspaper’s offices in King’s Cross, London.

The exhibition’s private view is this Thursday evening and it runs until 3rd May.

Damien Hirst at Tate Modern | Prebook or prepare to queue part two

The new Damien Hirst exhibition opened at Tate Modern last week. In hindsight, maybe it was a mistake to try and go on a bank holiday weekend, because the queues turned out to be worse than that time I went to David Hockney at the Royal Academy.

In fact, it took two attempts to get in. My first try was on Good Friday, when I joined the back of the longest queue I’ve ever seen for the Turbine Hall ticket desk. I got to the front 30 minutes later only to find that the next entry time on sale was for 7pm. A five-hour wait in the middle of touristville didn’t appeal, so I bought a ticket for the next day instead and returned at midday on Saturday.

The queue for tickets stretched half way through the Turbine Hall

That was when I realised my second mistake of the weekend: Hirst and hangovers do not mix. I had gone to bed at 5am that morning and after cycling to the Tate my energy levels were already flagging. Things were about to get much worse. First, the installation that consisted of two large glass cubes buzzing with flies, the floor coated with hundreds of fly corpses had me feeling pretty nauseous. ‘It’s making my skin crawl,’ agreed someone nearby. Next, a giant ash tray filled with hundreds of cigarette butts, the stale fag smell permeating throughout the room, made my headache ten times as bad. I had to dash through the room of rotating motion sickness-inducing multicoloured Spin Paintings, and by the time I’d gone through the bright, humid, heated room filled with live butterflies I thought I was going to faint. Oh, and there was a queue for that too.

If I hadn’t felt so rough I think I would have enjoyed it all, and there was plenty that I did like in fact. I thought Hirst was basically just about paintings of spots and animals suspended in formaldehyde but there was way more on offer, spanning more than 25 years and starting with work he completed as a student at Goldsmiths. Hirst admits he’s preoccupied with death and the way that medicine is used to try and prolong life: ‘You can only cure people for so long and then they’re going to die anyway,’ he said. In Pharmacy (1992) Hirst recreated an entire pharmacy, the walls lined with cabinets full of drugs. Later, he created huge mirrored frames filled with row upon row of pharmaceutical pills. Lullaby (2002), in which the soft colours of the pills are reminiscent of the famous Spot Paintings, I found quite mesmerising.

As well as the main exhibition, Hirst’s famous blinged up skull is on show in the Turbine Hall and admission for that is free. For the Love of God (2007) is a platinum cast embedded with 8,601 diamonds, estimated in value at £50 million. It occurred to me that in the minute or so you spend looking at it, that’s probably more diamonds than you’re going to see up close in the rest of your life time. But you’ll have to queue to do that as well.

The Damien Hirst exhibition at Tate Modern runs from 4 April to 9 September 2012. Tickets are £14 with concessions available. Visit the Tate website for more information and to book tickets.

Click on the photos below to enlarge them.

© Damien Hirst and Science Ltd. All rights reserved. DACS 2011. Photo: Photographed by Prudence Cuming Associates

© Damien Hirst and Science Ltd. All rights reserved. DACS 2011. Photo: Photographed by Prudence Cuming Associates

© Damien Hirst and Science Ltd. All rights reserved. DACS 2011. Photo: Photographed by Prudence Cuming Associates

The queue for tickets stretched half way through the Turbine Hall

Going to Tate Modern? Forget Miro, head to the Diane Arbus room

I went to Tate Modern last week and really didn’t rate the main exhibition, a retrospective of Spanish painter Miro. I was far more excited to discover a new room dedicated entirely to American photographer Diane Arbus.

Diane Arbus Puerto Rican woman with a beauty mark, N.Y.C. 1965 © The Estate of Diane Arbus

Arbus is one of those photographers who you might think you’ve never heard of, but chances are you will have see some of her stark black and white street photographs before. I think that many are as beautiful as a page from a Vogue photo spread, which may be explained by the fact that Arbus, who died in 1971, started out as a fashion photographer.

Diane Arbus: A Jewish giant at home with his parents in the Bronx, N.Y. 1970 © The Estate of Diane Arbus

This exhibition features a selection of archetypal Arbus portraits. Transvestites, midgets, an albino, a giant – these were the misfits Arbus chose because they were ‘things which nobody would see unless I photographed them.’ Spread over three rooms,  the exhibit opened in May and will remain on the third floor of the Tate until March 2012. Entry is free, so take my advice: skip the big ticket Miro and instead make a beeline for ARTIST ROOMS: Diane Arbus.

Diane Arbus Child with a toy hand grenade in Central Park, N.Y.C. 1962 © The Estate of Diane Arbus

Photos courtesy www.masters-of-photography.com