ARTS REVIEW
There is a tendency to turn everything into a theme park or circus, including art exhibitions. Psycho Buildings, the recently concluded show at London’s Hayward Gallery, was one such example.
The principle was to bring artists’ perspectives to architecture – this translated into a series of installations, most of which provoked thoughts of not too taxing a nature. At its peak were works of incredible detail such as Suh Do-ho’s Fallen Star, a physical crash of his Korean home into his sprawling American dwelling – it was all there, down to the food labels and a Domino’s Pizza box (his Staircase was rather neat, too). On a similar note was Rachel Whiteread’s Place (Village), a room of lit dolls houses arranged as if on hillsides – at first it was magical, then slightly creepy. All were decorated slightly differently, and all were empty. Why was no-one there? A simple point perhaps, but an entertaining one – had it been a ride it was one worth taking. Taken together, the downstairs formed a sprawling if spare meal – the upstairs was a different bunch of kettles altogether.
Queues one hour long snaked through various spaces, the reward for which was a rather fabulous boating lake where one appears near to falling off the building – fabulous, but not one-hour fabulous, and no amount of carping about patience will persuade us otherwise. Queues for films inside Tobias Putrih‘s Venetian, which were themselves described by one punter in very negative terms (possibly a product of the heat), were perceived not to move – and could easily have formed some kind of ‘living artwork’ by themselves. Perhaps this will be the next thing – perhaps art punters will be charged ten pounds simply to sit in an unpainted room occasionally frequented by fag-toting cleaners, and watch themselves becoming irritated on vast video screens. This is not a million miles away from John Cage’s instrumentally silent composition. Inevitably, this is available as a single.
A lottery of balls guided whether one was granted access to the top of what resembled an inflatable bouncy conservatory – this should have been tremendous fun, were it not for the two permanently installed members of staff who watched nervous punters like hawks. Moving was strictly rationed.
If these experiences are to be couched as rides, then why not commit to them more fully? Tate Modern had a series of metal slides in the Turbine Hall not so long ago, and didn’t really pretend they were anything but. (They were free, of course.) A fluffily written, badly-designed guide leaflet (it was almost impossible to switch sides without becoming convinced you had ripped it) is not enough to inform the visitor when the experiences with which you are presented are so mired in the mundane. News Hour has nothing against contemporary art, only its often absurd presentation. In the future, the Hayward should limit ticket sales to ensure that the experiences they are selling are open and enjoyable to all – only a souring of the ‘brand’ will occur if they don’t.
News hour, with Jerry Caesar 