The Tate Modern

Now I know that I spent a week in London, and visited about 6 museums and art galleries during this time, but I'll not dwell on the general - otherwise it'd take me ages to write a review, and I still need to complete parts 3, 4 and 5 of Banksy vs Bristol Museum. Instead, i'll focus on the museum/gallery in London that left the most lasting impression - the Tate Modern, a gallery with a world famous collection of modern art. I have rather mixed feelings about all this, so I'd best explain.

Modern art is simply any form of art that doesn't use the same instruments or produce the same results as standard "old shool" art. On the upside, this encourages a fresh approach to standard portraiture and landscapes, which can be pretty monotonous. Unfortunately, this also means that it's extremely difficult to distinguish between exceptional, intelligent art and a doodle by a three-fingered chimpanzee on cocaine.

Sadly, the Tate Modern, like any other modern art gallery, didn't manage to make this distinction. Its collection ranged from the surreally beautiful, to plain rubbish, to the downright disturbing. One of the rooms was dedicated to a sadomasochistic artist who used blood as paint, and filmed his subjects "torturing" themselves. Needless to say, I left that room quite quickly. Others simply didn't register in my brain, I found myself staring at a series of red blotches and blue streaks on white, that after a few minutes began to give me a headache.

Now, some would suggest to me that the fact of the matter is that I'm thick, and the reason I don't understand the meaning of some art is that I don't know the cultural background from which the artist created their work. This is a sensible argument - formerly, I thought all modern art was rubbish, but as I grow more aware of the burdens of mankind (in other words, I'm getting OLD), modern art is starting to make more sense - and when it does, the experience is visceral - one example was a strange black sculpture of a figure, stretched upwards to become exceptionally thin, and flattened sideways so that from the front, its head looks like a tiny vertical line. Its looked like an Easter Island Moai, but thinner and more gaunt, with a expression of deep sadness despite (or because of?) its almost-flat face.

Up to now of course, my description makes no sense whatsoever, but then I read the label on the wall - the sculpture was made by a Holocaust Survivor. Suddenly, the full weight of the sculpture's history hit me like a brick in the face, and inside me I felt a knife twist in my guts.

So then, the argument that modern art can only be understood along with its cultural context is at least partially logical. But then again, that is no excuse for bad modern art - for just as there is bad standard art, there surely is bad modern art. It's the audience's job to distinguish between the two.

Tips then, for future purveyours of "modern art" - firstly, take your time to read up on the artist, and their background - not about the artpiece itself, but try to understand what shaped the artist's mind. Secondly, when you do finally go look at their work, take your time to examine it, especially if you've not done Step #1. Look at it from a distance, look at its details, consider it from different directions if it's a 3-D work. In fact, I prefer to do Step #2 before Step #1 so that I don't cloud my judgement, but then again that's just me. Thirdly, don't be afraid to call a goat a goat - if it doesn't make sense to you after about 5 minutes, and you've done your pre-reading and taken your time to examine it, then you have every right to declare it insignificant.

And a final message to those (un?)fortunate enough to go to a modern art gallery - don't be afraid to leave if your head hurts!