Sometimes you just have to get over yourself don’t you.
What I’ve seen
Having tried and failed to read the incomprehensible catalogue for the exhibition Theatre Picasso at Tate Modern, I was absolutely dreading going to see it. A ‘response’ by two contemporary artists, Wu Tsang and Enrique Fuenteblanca, to his 1925 canvas The Three Dancers, in celebration of its centenary, I thought it was going to be annoying and pretentious and po-faced. It’s none of those things, I loved it.
What they’ve done is to ‘stage’ Tate’s entire holdings of Picasso, which actually makes for a nicely compact show, but to group them by themes that relate to the broad idea of performance, how he created his public persona, his own mythology, what he intended with his art, the ‘role’ played by his audience, and how museums and galleries have depicted him through display, as well as his relationship with performance on a purely artistic level, in making work for the theatre and ballet.
It’s fascinating, but done with a light touch. An early section looks at Picasso’s use of the obscene, so lots of naughty drawings of brothels; his symbolic use of animals, war and violence is explored; portraits of his lovers are grouped together to look at his possessive relationship with women, which forced them into a specific, rather limited role in the story of his life.
The show also briefly and non-judgementally tackles his appropriation of African and Pacific Islands art, placing it alongside his support for and solidarity with the oppressed (he was close friends with the poet and Martinique politician Aimé Césaire, whose book Lost Body, illustrated by Picasso, is on display).
It’s also beautifully installed, and there’s a mesmerising film that dominates the main gallery, using live action and animation to show how his drawings develop. It’s magical, watching a scribble become a bull, or watching him (topless, naturally, drawing live for a filmmaker) dash off a bunch of flowers, which then become a fish, which then becomes a chicken.
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