PHOTOGRAPHY, FASHION, ART & ARCHITECTURE… YES, IT’S MY RUN DOWN OF LONDON’S SUMMER EXHIBITIONS
WHAT TO SEE (OR MISS) BEFORE THE AUTUMN USHERS IN NEW SHOWS
Signs Ernest Cole saw everyday of his life in South Africa.
2024 has passed the halfway mark and, at least as far as London’s concerned, its not been a very exciting year for exhibitions. OK, I raved here about the Holbein drawings and the late Philip Guston paintings, but they opened and closed when the days were still short and nights long. Since then I’ve not felt compelled to head out to many exhibitions. That said, I’m not about to start taking the veritable feast London offers for granted and I have sought out a selection to bring to your attention.
All the exhibitions listed below are closing either this month or not long after. If you have been to any of them then let me know your thoughts – I imagine my preference for realist photography over conceptual art is not shared by all my readers.
ERNEST COLE: HOUSE OF BONDAGE – THE PHOTOGRAPHERS’ GALLERY
Tucked away on a Soho side street, The Photographers’ Gallery is one of London’s undersung treasures. Its reasonably priced (£8 entry), always puts on an array of exhibitions and never settles for cosy Famous Photographer retrospectives. OK, it does – obviously – often feature famous photographers but unlike many other photo galleries that trade on collectible names (or photos of The Beatles/icons), TPG aims for work that isn’t often exhibited, images that continue to resonate even if they have not been promoted for some considerable time: a retrospective of the late Bert Hardy (that I reported on here earlier this year) provided me with a much greater idea of the Picture Post’s primary photographer and his life affirming images.
The current exhibition of Ernest Cole is something of a revelation for me – in the 1980s anti-apartheid protests were where we Kiwis got to voice our revulsion at South Africa’s rotten government (not least because leading NZ rugby and cricketeers enthusiastically broke the international sporting boycott of SA – encouraged by our most wretched politicians, gleeful that sport was an opiate for many) and I occasionally saw images Cole took in SA in the 1960s. These would appear in books or documentaries and were impressive, but I never sought out further info’ on the photographer. It turns out, if I had, I’d not have found much – Cole (1940 – 1990) was, by then, often homeless, his pioneering work largely forgotten, destabilised by the pancreatic cancer that would kill him at the age of 49.
Thanks then to TPG for ensuring this large retrospective of B&W images Cole took in the first half of the 1960s that document the living hell Black South Africans endured under apartheid. He managed to make it out to New York in 1966 and what would be his one book, House Of Bondage (which gathers a selection of photos he took documenting apartheid’s dehumanising brutality) was published in 1967 to, I think, much acclaim. After that he had little luck and appears to have fallen through the cracks – why wasn’t this remarkable talent given more work? Why weren’t there more books of his images? The exhibition notes “from 1972, Cole’s life fell into disarray and he ceased to work as a photographer, losing control of his archive and negatives.” Which suggests mental health issues derailed Cole – by then he had been banned from ever returning to South Africa and was largely based in Sweden. That he died just before apartheid was toppled compounds his tragic life.
Yet Cole is resurrected by his photography – he not only was very brave in taking photos that could have seen him imprisoned (or worse), he had a fine eye for composition, for capturing the humanity of his fellow Africans as they struggle to survive in a system that aims to exploit and dehumanise them.
Here is both a history lesson and a reminder that state brutality aimed at oppressing a people because of their ethnicity continues to wreak havoc – Israel, Burma and Sudan being only the most savage and ruthless of contemporary governments. Ernest Cole: House of Bondage is the one essential exhibition currently on in London.
Exhibition continues until September 22
Groovy, baby! Classic Biba outfits from the late-1960s.
THE BIBA STORY, 1964 – 1975 – FASHION & TEXTILE MUSEUM
From a very raw photography exhibition to a very fluffy clothes exhibition is quite a leap and not one everyone will want to undertake, but if you like vintage clothes and London retail history then The Biba Story is an engaging overview of inspiration, retail nous and building a chic retail empire (then losing it).
I must admit to knowing nothing about Biba before entering the Fashion & Textile Museum – I’d heard the exhibition discussed on Radio 4 and BBC Radio London, which piqued my interest, and as the F&TM is in Bermondsey its a short cycle from where I live.
Do you share my ignorance of Biba? Right, I thought so – music/art obsessives not tending to be too clued up on fashion/retail trends. Here’s the F&TM blurb: In the summer of 1963, fashion illustrator Barbara Hulanicki established a mail-order company selling affordable fashion appealing to a new generation of young women, which she named Biba. The Biba Story explores how fashion phenomenon Biba blossomed to become the world’s first lifestyle label, sparking a revolution in how people shopped and how Biba earned its spot as the brand that epitomises 1960s and 1970s fashion.
The exhibition focuses on the years 1964, when the first Biba boutique opened, to 1975, when the legendary Big Biba closed its doors to the public. Displaying fantastic archival pieces of clothing, original photographs, film, and material all of which have been personally chosen by Barbara Hulanicki.
All of which the exhibition succeeds in doing. I must admit I found the material on how Hulanicki and her husband developed Biba into a must-have brand for young women (+briefly retail empire) more interesting than the clothes she designed. Not to say I disliked her designs – they reminded me of what my mum and her friends might have worn when I was a little boy – but looking at frocks doesn’t engage me greatly. Yet amongst those attending the exhibition were women discussing what Biba items they owned or if they thought the clothes remained stylish. Yes, outside of the bloke manning the ticket desk I was the only male in the building.
My overreaching thought was how Biba synchronised with the explosion of British pop music – as led by The Beatles and co’ – so breaking through a very rigid, very conservative, very class-ridden society, offering bright colours, imagination, excitement and a sense of joy – in life and love and sexual pleasure and creativity. For this I appreciated The Biba Story.
Exhibition runs until September 8
Detail of Artemisia’s self-portrait - the first by a female artist in Western art history - as painted for Charles 1.
Now You See Us: Women Artists In Britain 1520 – 1920 – Tate Britain
Keeping my focus on female-themed exhibitions I headed over to Tate Britain for Now You See Us: Women Artists In Britain 1520 – 1920. This is a large, ambitious, flawed gathering of paintings by over 100 women who forged public careers as artists in Britain. It begins with Artemisia Gentileschi, the Naples-born baroque painter whose remarkable life has drawn much attention in recent decades (biography, biopic, graphic novel etc).
Gentileschi came to England by invitation of Charles 1 in 1638-9 and painted several works, of which the surviving two begin Now You See Us. We very much “see” Artemisia as one of the paintings is a striking self-portrait and this is a strong start – too strong, as no other painter here comes near to matching Gentileschi’s verve and genius.
Instead, there are acres of bright canvases that are well executed but, for the most part, little more than decorative. Obviously, patriarchal European society resisted allowing women to work in the arts until a century ago (until the 1960s few female British artists received any real acknowledgement) and those that did manage to break through deserved to be acknowledged. But what a shame there is not more strong work on display – the final room has two of Gwen John’s tight, fussy paintings and I quite liked them. There are a few other paintings that possess a dynamic here, but too few to ensure I could recommend you pay to enter Now You See Us.
Exhibition runs until 13 October
Tiger, tiger burning bright… Franz Marc’s masterpiece.
YOKO ONO & EXPRESSIONISTS – TATE MODERN
Further east along the Thames sits Tate Modern, that huge temple where the worship of modern art has replaced religious ritual for many. Apparently Tate Modern is now one of Britain’s favourite visitor attractions – free entry and spectacular views being likely as much part of the attraction as the art on display. Poor old Tate Britain does feel somewhat overlooked these days – that said, do note the cafes at TB makes better coffee than those at TM.
Right now Tate Modern has two blockbuster exhibitions on (both ticketed) – Yoko Ono and Expressionists: Kandinsky, Munter And The Blue Rider. Until even a decade ago it would be the German painters who thrived before, during and after WW1 that would attract the crowds and media attention but, in 2024, its Yoko Ono who is the talking point (amongst the chattering classes). Which demonstrates both how the racism and misogyny Ono experienced from the British media (and many Beatles fans) for several decades is fading as she, now in her nineties, is appreciated as an iconoclastic artist. And how early modernists ala the expressionists are now so familiar and considered almost as decorative as the impressionists, that its hard to get excited about such.
This noted, I entered into both exhibitions with a degree of caution – when it comes to German painting of the early 20th C I much prefer that other branch of expressionism, Die Brucke (The Bridge) where Kirchner, Beckmann and co’ made far rawer paintings rooted in a convulsive society tearing itself apart. Kandinsky and the Blue Rider group favoured a gentler, more abstract style. In Kandinsky’s case this was rooted in his spiritualist beliefs. Here you get many amorphous shapes on canvas, some more enticing than others. But none really scorch my retina.
Gabriele Munter, whose family fortune allowed her to support her poorer artist pals, is given a good deal of space – not because she is a painter of real worth, more because of the rebalancing of art history away from being almost entirely male means a minor female artist like Munter can get her work promoted. Franz Marc’s Tiger is here – a striking work that now decorates many childhood bedrooms (if the munchkin’s parents go to art galleries) – but nothing else by Marc (or anyone else comes near to matching it).
As I mentioned, I entered Expressionists with a degree of caution – I have seen paintings by all involved in European art galleries and never felt great enthusiasm – and so it turned out. Better that than being disappointed, which can happen with the visual arts as easily as with music or film.
“Oh no, its Yoko!” - apparently this was a pun the other Beatles used to mutter amongst themselves when John Lennon’s Japanese lover began making her presence felt. That she considered herself their equal – Lennon agreed – must have ruffled egos. Having been raised in one of Japan’s wealthiest families she certainly had the money to match the musicians and, it appears, limitless confidence.
I’ve never had much time for the music Ono made with – and post – Lennon. I don’t loathe it, as some do, and can enjoy its playfulness. But its just not that interesting to listen to more than once. Her huge Tate retrospective is titled Music Of The Mind and it covers her entire creative life, yet downplays the music making – no clear reason is given but I imagine Ono and the curator wanted to emphasis her role as a visual artist.
And so they do. Here is a huge amount of Ono – with the looped footage of her and Lennon doing their bed-peace celebrity protest understandably drawing the largest number of eyeballs. I found her pre-Lennon work the most compelling – the performance art piece Cut (1964) finds her seated and inviting audience members to cut off bits of her clothing. This kind of art provocateur surely inspired Marina Abramovic (whose huge Royal Academy retrospective I reviewed on the Yak earlier this year).
Later on much of Ono’s art focuses here on play and engaging spectators – especially children (you can scrawl on the floor/walls with bright marker pens in one area). Lots of people seemed to enjoy this when I visited but, to me, its too much a return to kindergarten. Ono was, when Lennon met her, a genuinely avant-garde artist – arguably, not a very good one – but since their marriage and her worldwide fame she’s not really produced a great deal of art. And what she has produced suggests this extremely wealthy woman seems to have lost any desire to confront or challenge her audience. Ono’s art ends up feeling fluffy, trading on new age aphorisms and feel-good gestures. As also did Abramovic’s retrospective – though Marina was a far more committed performance artist than Ono.
Expressionists runs until October 20 – Yoko Ono runs until September 1
Tim: self-portrait in a hotel room.
STORYTELLER: PHOTOGRAPHY BY TIM HETHERINGTON – IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM
I wrote on my working relationship with the late Tim Hetherington for the Yak when this exhibition opened at the end of April. That night’s opening party had seen speeches, friends reunited, introductions made and much wine quaffed. It was an event. So much so, my friend Ian – who introduced me to Tim in 1999 and remained one of his closest friends – and I determined we would return to see the exhibition on an ordinary weekday. And so we did.
What more can I say? Tim was a gifted photographer with a real empathy both for the combatants and the ordinary people whose lives he documented. The exhibition is at pains to point out that he wasn’t some gung-ho war photographer who loved to rush towards chaos – his death contradicts this, he having flown into Libya on a whim to document the uprising – yet his best photos (and the videos he shot) do demonstrate a man who valued peace and reconciliation (a series of photos of former combatants now engaged in sport – many having lost limbs – is amongst his best work).
Should I compare and contrast his work to that of Ernest Cole’s (who I started this post writing on)? Cole was a Black African living under both oppression and the threat of persecution for taking his photos, while Tim was a white Englishman who could fly in and out. The sense of oppression and suffering and despair is far move vivid in Cole’s photos, Tim was gentle, enjoying documenting US Marines horsing around, not someone who lived in fear of being imprisoned, going hungry. Which isn’t to say his work lacks depth – it doesn’t, but Cole’s the greater photographer and the show you should see first.
Exhibition runs until 29 September.
Joy Labinjo celebrates the great joy of parents playing with their children.
A couple of honourable mentions: Tropical Modernism (ticket) at the V&A is a compact exhibition documenting how newly independent India and Ghana both set off on their own separate paths of developing a modern architecture that reflected these ancient yet newly born nations. Photos, drawings, documents, folk art and an informative documentary illuminate how much was achieved and how, especially in Ghana’s case – when independence leader and first president Kwame Nkrumah declared Ghana a one-party state with himself president-for-life (“Nkrumah was a great African but a poor Ghanian,” says one Ghanian architect interviewed in the doc’) – these dreams faded. Open until 22 September.
The Southwark Park Galleries host the paintings of Joy Labinjo We Are Briefly Gorgeous (free). These find the artist painting people she has seen in the park, often parents and children. These works are bright and loving and engaging. They’re not great paintings but I enjoyed them and they’re a lot better than much of what I saw on offer in Now You See Us and The Expressionists. While Yoko Ono could never achieve anything as straightforward and humane. On until 29 September – Southwark Park is a gorgeous Victorian part, one of my favourites in London, and only minutes walk from the Thames path and decent historic pubs. Need I say more?
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Beyond The Bassline: 500 Years of Black British Music finishes on August 26 at the British Library (ticket). This is both fascinating and infuriating - there are remarkable historic documents then huge gaps (no mention of Errol Dixon or Jimmy James & the Vagabonds etc) . Anyone interested in the contribution of musicians of African origin to British music should pop along and have a look.
The exhibition’s catalogue features much fine writing - some of it by me!