Ever since I saw 'The Weather Project' (aka The Big Sun) at the Tate Modern in 2003 I've been interested in Olafur Eliasson. The Big Sun was an astonishing installation in the Turbine Hall of Tate Modern and I still recall walking into the building on a cold winters day and immediately feeling hot from the intensity of the sun. I saw his fountain installation 'Model for a Timeless Garden' at the Hayward Gallery in 2013 and his 'Ice Watch' in the Place du Pantheon in Paris in 2014. More recently, I saw his collaboration with Wayne McGregor's ballet 'Tree of Codes' at Sadler's Wells and his 'Room for One Colour' at the National Gallery's 'Monochrome' exhibition in 2017. Eliasson is worth watching out for and now he has a full retrospective at Tate Modern called 'In Real Life'.
Part of the joy of Eliasson's work is the fun element alongside the serious message so I'll try not to spoil the fun for anyone going to the exhibition. I've already been to see it three times in the last 12 days and I've found something new to look at and experience on each visit. I don't recall seeing so many people actively enjoying an art exhibition in a long time, possibly ever, and that's a good thing - those people are more likely to try out another exhibition of art in future.
Something that saddened me a bit was that Mr Eliasson doesn't quite understand his role as alchemist and wizard and doesn't really know the names of his own creations. Clearly, the installation called 'Beauty' should really be called 'The Magical Moving Rainbow Room', 'Your Blind Passenger' should be called 'The Mystical Room of Shifting Mists' and 'In Real Life' is actually the 'Goth Glitter Ball' and covers the walls and ceiling of the gallery room in colours. I'd be more than happy to offer my services to Mr Eliasson for naming future projects.
Of course, there is a serious side to Eliasson's work, with 'Your Blind Passenger' really being about the migrant crisis and those brave people risking their lives for an unknown future is reflected in us walking through a room where our vision is clouded by coloured mists. Enjoy the exhibition (and I did) but don't forget the serious messages underneath many of the works.
It's an astonishing exhibition that takes up virtually the whole of the second floor of the new building at Tate Modern. Even the lift hallway is covered in a series of orange lights to make it plain to everyone that something special is happening on that floor. Something very special indeed.
You get a leaflet on entering the exhibition that shows a suggested route for wandering round the weird and the wonderful exhibits. Whether it's a water pipe dripping water onto a long window or a single lit candle standing on the floor on it's own, there's something to wonder at all over the place. A wall of Norwegian moss? Why yes, why not? A massive kaleidoscope to walk through and see yourself in a million directions at the same time? Yes, bring it on. A small fountain in a blacked out room with a strobe light above it? Why not?
It started me thinking and wondering, not so much about how some of the installations worked, but how and why Eliasson wanted to create them in the first place. Why would you want to create a rainbow in water mist in a dark room in a gallery? What was the thought process behind it? Or did he simply wake up one morning and thought, 'I want an indoor rainbow' and set about creating one? I think I need to sit down with Mr Eliasson with a cup of tea and cake to grill him on some of these questions. I'm happy to pay for refreshments if that helps.
In the final room you can contribute to a larger creation but slotting together a form of Lego, lots of sticks in different sizes and colours, the kind of thing that mad scientists use to demonstrate the form of germs or other tiny things. It'll be interesting to see how large this becomes.
If you get the chance, go and see this exhibition - it is great fun but with some serious messages. It was a delight to see other visitors to the exhibition wide eyed and laughing with wonder as they experienced this exhibits. I'll be going back again!
Part of the joy of Eliasson's work is the fun element alongside the serious message so I'll try not to spoil the fun for anyone going to the exhibition. I've already been to see it three times in the last 12 days and I've found something new to look at and experience on each visit. I don't recall seeing so many people actively enjoying an art exhibition in a long time, possibly ever, and that's a good thing - those people are more likely to try out another exhibition of art in future.
Something that saddened me a bit was that Mr Eliasson doesn't quite understand his role as alchemist and wizard and doesn't really know the names of his own creations. Clearly, the installation called 'Beauty' should really be called 'The Magical Moving Rainbow Room', 'Your Blind Passenger' should be called 'The Mystical Room of Shifting Mists' and 'In Real Life' is actually the 'Goth Glitter Ball' and covers the walls and ceiling of the gallery room in colours. I'd be more than happy to offer my services to Mr Eliasson for naming future projects.
Of course, there is a serious side to Eliasson's work, with 'Your Blind Passenger' really being about the migrant crisis and those brave people risking their lives for an unknown future is reflected in us walking through a room where our vision is clouded by coloured mists. Enjoy the exhibition (and I did) but don't forget the serious messages underneath many of the works.
It's an astonishing exhibition that takes up virtually the whole of the second floor of the new building at Tate Modern. Even the lift hallway is covered in a series of orange lights to make it plain to everyone that something special is happening on that floor. Something very special indeed.
You get a leaflet on entering the exhibition that shows a suggested route for wandering round the weird and the wonderful exhibits. Whether it's a water pipe dripping water onto a long window or a single lit candle standing on the floor on it's own, there's something to wonder at all over the place. A wall of Norwegian moss? Why yes, why not? A massive kaleidoscope to walk through and see yourself in a million directions at the same time? Yes, bring it on. A small fountain in a blacked out room with a strobe light above it? Why not?
It started me thinking and wondering, not so much about how some of the installations worked, but how and why Eliasson wanted to create them in the first place. Why would you want to create a rainbow in water mist in a dark room in a gallery? What was the thought process behind it? Or did he simply wake up one morning and thought, 'I want an indoor rainbow' and set about creating one? I think I need to sit down with Mr Eliasson with a cup of tea and cake to grill him on some of these questions. I'm happy to pay for refreshments if that helps.
In the final room you can contribute to a larger creation but slotting together a form of Lego, lots of sticks in different sizes and colours, the kind of thing that mad scientists use to demonstrate the form of germs or other tiny things. It'll be interesting to see how large this becomes.
If you get the chance, go and see this exhibition - it is great fun but with some serious messages. It was a delight to see other visitors to the exhibition wide eyed and laughing with wonder as they experienced this exhibits. I'll be going back again!
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