Epiphany : my visit to Tate Britain I

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2012
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

6 January

Having been to Tate Britain for the last day of The Turner Prize show, I am not surprised that Elizabeth Price’s nomination won it for her in 2012: to say that there were no real contenders is a rather unhelpful way of asserting that she outclassed them all.

I already knew that to be true of Luke Fowler’s 93-minute film, which simply wasn’t art, even if it was going to have the massive draw of footage of Laing, the psychiatrist whom so many people have heard of (or feel that they know about, Fowler probably included). Fair enough, by having All Divided Selves (2011) in the show, Tate was committed to coming up with the means to provide a space in which people could be for that long, and, from what I could tell the solution was effective. That said, there were people sitting on the floor, and, although some of them may have been not only transient, but also the result of last-weekend numbers, that is scarcely something that many would choose to do at the cinema (where I think that Fowler’s film belongs, not in a gallery).

There are several things that bother me still about how a full-length film distorts such a show, not least when the exhibition-space persists on being on the corridor model:

(a) attrition / fatigue / pacing, when one gets to the entry for Fowler’s film first, and, although entry is not exactly limited to the screening-times (and, unlike a gallery of displayed work, one does not have to pass through it), they require one to take that part out of one’s visit to plan to get somewhere to sit* ;

(b) even if Price’s and Fowler’s films were of the same quality, is more than four times as much better, just by virtue of being longer ? ;

(c) on the same question of comparison, how weigh Paul Noble’s drawings with All Divided Selves, even if one did not think that, assuming if the latter were art (not just slightly arty documentary), the Laing factor wins it in a way that Fowler’s film about Cornelius Cardew would not.


Although no one, of course, is going to admit it, I’d be very surprised if a show has another film that long in a hurry. (Or that anyone makes one – not, at least, without being much closer to the spirit of film-making that being a recipient of the Derek Jarman Award might suggest.)

Paul Noble’s work was fine, but it just did not have the virtuosic command of its medium that Price did of hers. As to Spartacus Chetwynd, let’s just say that I have seen better work of this carnivalesque kind, and that I really did mean to watch the whole performance, but it was so much more inviting to go back to the room with the mini-features about the nominees…

This survey concludes with a review of Price's award-winning work


End-notes

* If they do not have the benefits of coming in and out, as a Tate member, visitors are obliged to stay inside when they have bought a ticket, however much a coffee may call.


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