Thinking about art at the Whitechapel
Rachel Whiteread is an artist who I have previously felt has been stuck in a rut, limited rather than inspired by her trademark casting of the empty space of objects. But her new installation Tree of Life on the facade of the Whitechapel is both sensitive and beautiful. She has cast the art nouveau-style leaves that decorate a band at the top of the facade, and created gold copies that look as though they have blown out across the surface of the building. These surround casts of the four small windows which are placed above their originals at the top of the facade. This combination of old and new ideas, both hers and the original designer's, encourages you to appreciate the building anew.
On my recent visit, this juxtaposed sharply with the retrospective of film and photographic art by another Turner-prize winning artist, Gillian Wearing. The two made me think more carefully about what I think art 'is' (with acknowledgements to my Dad for making me articulate these thoughts).
I often have problems with video art anyway, partly because it is so had to curate and display effectively in the gallery space, without making visitors crowd around a small monitor, sit on the floor, or queue. This was certainly the case with this show, which is a testament to its popularity. Wearing's work also adds an extra layer of discomfort when watching with strangers, as it is hard-hitting social commentary which deals with drunkenness, abuse, and sexual experimentation. Some of her pieces, indeed, approach very close to a confession or counselling session. These are not easy things to watch in a public environment, although I feel she could do an interesting self-referential piece about how people engage with her films in the gallery space.
I am aware that I bring my own limitations to this watching experience. But, I have no complaint with art that engages with difficult topics. I think it should, I want an exhibition to make me think. But I also want it to make me look, I want the artistic medium to add something to the subject matter. This is my problem with Wearing's work. For me, it adds no aesthetic quality to the subject, it gives me no beauty, no new way of appreciating what she is showing me. It also, perhaps because of this, I feel, gives me no space to think about what I am seeing. I think the best art, and best exhibitions, raise questions which keep you discussing their subject long afterwards, where I feel Wearing's work merely presents me with conclusions: look how bad these aspects of society are, full stop. The only question that I left the Whitechapel with this time was 'What is art?' which I feel is probably the one question Wearing is not trying to raise.