I often don’t see any exhibitions for few weeks and then happen to see a number of them in a very short space of time.
I probably mentioned more than once how much I love Tate Modern, however it does feel like a kindergarten if you visit during the weekend. That’s why my favorite time to go is on Friday or Saturday evening when it is open till 22.00.
Inflatable bunny by Jeff Koons at Covent Garden Piazza
A friend of mine and I went to see Pop Life: Art in a Material World. The exhibition is loud, shiny, busy and very pornographic. Andy Warhol occupies three rooms, there is a room of Takashi Murakami’s Japanese ‘fairy-tale’ world, Keith Harings’s Pop Shop, Emin, Lucas, Hirst, Kippenberg, Uklanski and way too much of Jeff Koons – his Made in Heaven series made me wonder: where does art end and porn begin?
There are few interesting works in the exhibition but a lot of it looks just tacky and dated in a bad way.
Feeling bit overwhelmed we went to see John Baldessari: Pure Beauty which also shows at the moment. This is really worth seeing, brilliant and funny visual one-liners. Clever and thought provoking art.
John Baldessari, God Nose
We also experienced Miroslaw Balka’s huge container in the Turbine Hall – you walk into blackness, your senses are confused, you’re walking in space, very unsettling however it does not last long enough, your eyes get used to the darkness very fast and the effect is over.
Anish Kapoor, Tall Tree and the Eye
It was spectacular, his creations are things of real beauty: pigment sculptures (you feel like blowing the powdery surface), polished mirror stainless steel works, and Svayambh which is truly amazing – a door that slowly slides back and forth on wax through three rooms of the gallery scattering wax on walls as it goes through the arches. A wonderful show indeed.
To finish the arty weekend we also managed to pop to The Wallace Collection where the latest Damien Hirst paintings are. This is one of the most beautiful museums in London with a vast collection of old masters, home to Hals’ The Laughing Cavalier so it felt slightly invaded by modern art.
Hirst’s blue period scull paintings looked like badly ripped off Francis Bacon. Say no more.
And that’s it. I swear Hirst and Koons seem to be everywhere in London, I have had enough of them for a while.