TMC Reviews… Unpopular Culture

by Strawberry Cheesecake

For all the hype and hostility which surrounds the Young British Artists, it can sometimes be difficult to remember that there was once a time when they exercised no hold over the art world. Grayson Perry, acting as curator rather than artist, has trawled the Arts Council’s archive to produce an intriguing celebration of British culture and art prior to this cringe-worthy era of ‘Cool Britannia’ and its ensuing fallout. He has called this Unpopular Culture – and it is difficult not to feel that the name is profoundly apt. It involves more than 70 works by 50 artists and encompasses painting, sculpture and photography. While a great variety of work is on display, it all points to a the post-war struggle of a pre-celebrity era.

Sadly it seemed that some of the work was not on display when I visited at Warwick University’s Mead Gallery and while the exhibition’s tour seems to have ended at present, it is worth checking the Southbank Centre’s website to see if there is an extension.

One particularly striking work is Arrangement In Turquoise and Cream by David Hepher (above). Possessed of a fascinating predilection for the artistic exploration of grim modernist architecture, it seems Hepher has portrayed a superficially anonymous  block of council flats with a realism bordering on the photographic. However it was only after observing the work for a minute that it slowly dawned on me that this was neither a photograph nor was the block portrayed anonymous. This stunning painting plays with our preconceptions about the accommodation it represents and, as we look closer, we see the teeming life and diversity shining through the homogeneity implied by the architecture.  While it is difficult to make this out in a computer image, each window points to a different life through the touching portrayal of individually patterned curtains and the often unseen detritus of daily life, while the garage and its lock loom ambiguously in the foreground, suggestive of the world and dangers beyond the flats.

Another powerful addition to the exhibition was a creation of Perry himself. His Head of a Fallen Giant (below) is an imposing construction through which he has aimed to represent the changing face of modern Britain. He has searched through countless tourist shops to accumulate all manner of nostalgic tat with which he has constructed a truly unique rendering of a human skull that is simultaneously a work of art and, in a rather abstract sense, a social history. It offers a fascinating opportunity to scour its surface, replete with a seemingly endless array of symbols and images, in the hope of recognising something familiar and meaningful. While some are frustratingly indecipherable, others are affably homely, such as the route master bus, the post box and the bowler hat. The overall effect is deeply engaging as the blunt particularly of the skull is perpetually belied by the charming nostalgia manifested in the indentations and models which cover its entire surface. It also serves as a pleasing retort to the banal and profoundly vacuous bling of Damien Hirst’s skull which is reported to have sold for £50 million. As Perry himself put it, “We get the art we deserve and it’s almost like Tony Blair’s legacy is Damien Hirst’s skull”.

The most haunting painting on display is Edward Burra’s Winter (below). This melancholy scene stayed with me for days after visiting Unpopular Culture and inspired me to explore Burra’s life and work.

There is something profoundly enticing about this exhibition and the eclectic though well-organized range of work on display draws you into an older world as you wander around. Perry says of the exhibition that ‘I wanted to show that those qualities reflected the time in which the art was made. It’s difficult, though, to applaud quietness. I’m presenting a vision of a certain sort of Britishness that the PR industry would struggle with.’ He seems to succeed in this respect and his attempt to celebrate this older and more restrained age produces an experience which feels immersive in way which would likely be beyond the curatorial capacities of many people. At times though, the tone of the exhibition seems unpersuasively nostalgic. It’s difficult to know whether this ought to constitute a criticism of it and Perry has actually admitted to being “heavily prone to nostalgia”. Certainly the aims of exhibition are admirable and, I suspect, many of those visiting it will agree with Perry’s statement that “modern day, post-Ikea Britain does fill me with trepidation”. Even so it remains questionable whether the past for which Perry, as well as many others, feel this nostalgia actually existed. The sociologist Jeffrey Weeks suggests that a nostalgia for “the world we have lost”, which can be found in both conservative and progressive thought, produces despair and pessimism. Could it be that we are all prone to idealising the past? If this is so does it follow that we ought to morally accept the reality of present society? These are important questions and the fact that the exhibition raises them is one of its many virtues although they simultaneously suggest that the issues at stake are not as clear-cut as Perry is prone to suggesting.

Unpopular Culture certainly showcases Grayson Perry’s talents, above and beyond those manifested in his own artistic work. Whether or not it succeeds in its stated objectives or succumbs to a certain nostalgia is ultimately in the eye of the beholder and something which each visitor much decide for themselves. It is without doubt though a rewarding way to wile away an hour or so and emphatically worthy of a visit if, as seems likely, the exhibition is extended beyond its temporary home at Warwick University.