Reflecting on art
The Epistle of Simon to the Infidels: Chapter 6
When I left London, I told myself that the Emirates were both a literal desert and something of a cultural one too, and that I would be giving up lazy weekend afternoons in art galleries. That later statement is true up to a point, but I was wrong to think that I was entering a cultural desert.
Last weekend was a long weekend; the Prophet’s Birthday more or less coincided with mine, so Sunday was a holiday. Despite that I spend part of the day at work as there were things that needed to be done. My boss’s wife, who is over from the UK phoned up to say that, as part of a series of talks linked to the forthcoming Guggenheim Abu Dhabi, there would be a lecture that evening by Jeff Koons and Anish Kapoor. It was an open event: all we had to do was turn up, and if there was space we’d get in. So off we went, arriving at the Emirates Palace [that will be a whole separate chapter after I’ve been back with my camera] at about 6:20 for a 6:30 start.
In London one would probably have had to sell one’s Grandmother simply for a chance to enter a lottery for tickets to such an event, but in Abu Dhabi we could stroll in 10 minutes before the start and secure seats about 2/3 of the way back, settle down, and enjoy the show.
Jeff Koons was very much the supporting act. He treated us to a brief history of his work accompanied by what sounded to me like an awful lot of post-rationalisation. Early works were said to be influenced by Nietsche, Kirkegaard, and American door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesmen. A baseball in an equilibrium tank represented a womb evoking past, present and future. A mess of play doh was supposed to give us a “sense of Freud”... A lot of it was an ‘omage to Duchamps. And so it went on. Much of it was great fun, but I was left with the feeling that that’s just about all it was. I was left feeling that I had nothing whatsoever in common with Koons’ cultural references, and wasn’t that bothered about it.
And then on came Anish Kapoor. He also gave us a brief history of his work, but there the similarities stopped. “I have nothing to say as an artist” he said, “I have no message for the world”. And he then went on to describe his earlier work with colour as a “wish to dream” where process became ritual. He talked about “the sublime”, about mystery, Heaven and Hell without any references to religion but how humans approach spaces and objects they don’t quite understand. He showed us how slights of perspective could create real sense of wonder. He told us that “the landscape is to be listened to”. And then he showed us some of his latest works, which he described as “somewhere between shit and architecture”. It was heady stuff delivered to us by a man of apparent modesty.
Ultimately an uplifting evening that proved to me, if I needed proving, that I should grasp the opportunities for everything that comes my way here.
Reflecting on art
The Epistle of Simon to the Infidels: Chapter 6
When I left London, I told myself that the Emirates were both a literal desert and something of a cultural one too, and that I would be giving up lazy weekend afternoons in art galleries. That later statement is true up to a point, but I was wrong to think that I was entering a cultural desert.
Last weekend was a long weekend; the Prophet’s Birthday more or less coincided with mine, so Sunday was a holiday. Despite that I spend part of the day at work as there were things that needed to be done. My boss’s wife, who is over from the UK phoned up to say that, as part of a series of talks linked to the forthcoming Guggenheim Abu Dhabi, there would be a lecture that evening by Jeff Koons and Anish Kapoor. It was an open event: all we had to do was turn up, and if there was space we’d get in. So off we went, arriving at the Emirates Palace [that will be a whole separate chapter after I’ve been back with my camera] at about 6:20 for a 6:30 start.
In London one would probably have had to sell one’s Grandmother simply for a chance to enter a lottery for tickets to such an event, but in Abu Dhabi we could stroll in 10 minutes before the start and secure seats about 2/3 of the way back, settle down, and enjoy the show.
Jeff Koons was very much the supporting act. He treated us to a brief history of his work accompanied by what sounded to me like an awful lot of post-rationalisation. Early works were said to be influenced by Nietsche, Kirkegaard, and American door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesmen. A baseball in an equilibrium tank represented a womb evoking past, present and future. A mess of play doh was supposed to give us a “sense of Freud”... A lot of it was an ‘omage to Duchamps. And so it went on. Much of it was great fun, but I was left with the feeling that that’s just about all it was. I was left feeling that I had nothing whatsoever in common with Koons’ cultural references, and wasn’t that bothered about it.
And then on came Anish Kapoor. He also gave us a brief history of his work, but there the similarities stopped. “I have nothing to say as an artist” he said, “I have no message for the world”. And he then went on to describe his earlier work with colour as a “wish to dream” where process became ritual. He talked about “the sublime”, about mystery, Heaven and Hell without any references to religion but how humans approach spaces and objects they don’t quite understand. He showed us how slights of perspective could create real sense of wonder. He told us that “the landscape is to be listened to”. And then he showed us some of his latest works, which he described as “somewhere between shit and architecture”. It was heady stuff delivered to us by a man of apparent modesty.
Ultimately an uplifting evening that proved to me, if I needed proving, that I should grasp the opportunities for everything that comes my way here.