The Turbine Hall at Tate Modern has become a space where art goes to wither and die. The latest installation is a perfect example - weak, feeble, and barely worth noticing in such a massive space. It's baffling what Tate's priorities are when it comes to selecting artists for the annual commission. And the Turner Prize? Once a showcase for provocative and shocking art that engaged audiences, it has retreated into obscurity.
The blame for this stagnation can't be laid solely at Maria Balshaw's feet. While she may be taking the fall, she's also an opportunity for Tate to reinvent itself. The achievements announced in her departure speak of "diversification" - a noble quest indeed. But beneath that surface lies a loss of artistic ambition, aesthetic thrills, raw horror, and beauty.
The problem is starkly evident in the gallery displays. Critics rarely comment on these, but visitors are stuck with them. Tate's galleries have become an insult to coherence, with masterpieces like Rothkos, Picassos, and surrealists often hidden from view. The rehang at Tate Britain was a 2023 debacle, praised for its harsh criticism but ultimately for prioritizing politics over art.
There have been some great shows, but they were marred by unnecessary side battles. Cรฉzanne's blockbuster in 2022 was superb, but the inclusion of contemporary artists with irrelevant, politically charged interventions didn't help. When trying to understand Cรฉzanne's complex work, such distractions only add to the confusion.
One can almost imagine Edward Said being perplexed by these stilted attempts at relevance. The Turner Prize has lost its way, staging shows in Bradford that seem more like exercises in studied wholesomeness than genuine artistic exploration. The exhibitions themselves are a mere echo of what once was - brilliant retrospectives of modern greats.
Tate's current priorities lie with ideology over art, politics ahead of aesthetics, and bad ideas over thoughtful radicalism. To change this, Tate needs to reassess its values, not just replace its leadership. Otherwise, the departure of powerful women like Penelope Curtis after criticism will be seen as another misogynistic removal from power.
The lack of ambition at Tate Modern is a symptom of a larger problem - an institution more interested in ideological posturing than genuine artistic exploration. The question remains: what's next for this iconic space? Will it continue to prioritize politics over art, or will it rediscover its passion for showcasing the most innovative and provocative works?
The blame for this stagnation can't be laid solely at Maria Balshaw's feet. While she may be taking the fall, she's also an opportunity for Tate to reinvent itself. The achievements announced in her departure speak of "diversification" - a noble quest indeed. But beneath that surface lies a loss of artistic ambition, aesthetic thrills, raw horror, and beauty.
The problem is starkly evident in the gallery displays. Critics rarely comment on these, but visitors are stuck with them. Tate's galleries have become an insult to coherence, with masterpieces like Rothkos, Picassos, and surrealists often hidden from view. The rehang at Tate Britain was a 2023 debacle, praised for its harsh criticism but ultimately for prioritizing politics over art.
There have been some great shows, but they were marred by unnecessary side battles. Cรฉzanne's blockbuster in 2022 was superb, but the inclusion of contemporary artists with irrelevant, politically charged interventions didn't help. When trying to understand Cรฉzanne's complex work, such distractions only add to the confusion.
One can almost imagine Edward Said being perplexed by these stilted attempts at relevance. The Turner Prize has lost its way, staging shows in Bradford that seem more like exercises in studied wholesomeness than genuine artistic exploration. The exhibitions themselves are a mere echo of what once was - brilliant retrospectives of modern greats.
Tate's current priorities lie with ideology over art, politics ahead of aesthetics, and bad ideas over thoughtful radicalism. To change this, Tate needs to reassess its values, not just replace its leadership. Otherwise, the departure of powerful women like Penelope Curtis after criticism will be seen as another misogynistic removal from power.
The lack of ambition at Tate Modern is a symptom of a larger problem - an institution more interested in ideological posturing than genuine artistic exploration. The question remains: what's next for this iconic space? Will it continue to prioritize politics over art, or will it rediscover its passion for showcasing the most innovative and provocative works?