A Letter to Tracey Emin

This is a guest post by Bonnie Golightly.

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Tracey Emin “My Bed,” Installation, 1998

Dear Tracey,

I know you’ve come in for quite some stick for “My Bed.” Is that really art? Anybody could have done that! How was that shortlisted for the 1999 Turner Prize? etc. etc. I have to admit I was a bit baffled myself. (Was it really worth that much?) But as I tootled happily around Tate Britain the other day, I happened upon “My Bed.” I found myself intrigued, then mesmerised and ultimately quite moved.

The blurb on the wall says “By virute of bringing the domestic into the public sphere without directly representing specific events, the installation is forcefully and compellingly suggestive of personal narratives.” I’ll say! I stood and looked. I walked around. I then realised that “My Bed” was boring into my heart. The mess of the soiled sheets together with the bedside scut of discarded underwear, fluffy toys, well-worn slippers, vodka, cigarettes and KY recalled a whole raft of good, bad, sad and indifferent moments of my life. So many things and times I might – or might not – want to leave behind! And then, to my surprise, I found the sad, saccharine squalor of it all quite eye-watering. In fact, it made my day. So, thank you, Tracey. I hope you’re doing OK now.

Lots of love,

Bonnie

PS I really went to Tate Britain to see the Frank Auerbach exhibition. Not my cup of tea!

PPS As you know, “My Bed” is installed next to two Francis Bacon paintings and a series of your own drawings. I’ve never liked FB’s paintings.

PPPS I need help with your drawings.

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Tracey Emin “I could feel you” Gouache on paper, 2014

Art Genève 2016… by the lakeside

It’s that time of year! Art Genève opens tomorrow. The lakeside extension is up and running already. For January, the day is surprisingly warm and calm.

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The first work I come across consists of five huge iron nails lying on the walkway. This is “Los Carpinteros: Clavo 4 to 8” by Cuban sculpters, Dagoberto Rodriguez Sanchez and Marco Antonio Castillo Valdes. Fun! But at the same time it generates an uncomfortable feeling. Big hammers and big forces…. all gone wrong. The nails are irreparably bent, pulled out and discarded! Reminds me of hanging pictures!

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My next find is Tony Cragg’s magnificent bronze “Tommy.” It is organic and dominant. The overall form defies parallels. Next to it is Yue Minjun’s steel “The Tao Laughter No. 4” which clashes with everyone and everything around it. The laughter is harsh. I couldn’t imagine two more dissimilar works next to each other.

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What really grabs me is a thoroughly contemporary statement by Yarisal and Kublitz. Their “EMOJI TOTEM (screw you guys I’m going home)” is really thought provoking. Is our phonetic writing about to be displaced by a new symbolic language based on emojis? Wow! I hadn’t considered this.

The weather forecast is good for the next few days. Take a stroll along the lakeside. There’s lots of beautiful stuff to see!

The Hills Sculpture Park… and Golf Course, NZ

I have the privilege of playing a round of golf where the New Zealand Open is played; at the exclusive Hills Golf Course near Queenstown in New Zealand’s South Island. It is not going to be an ordinary day. This stupendous course doubles as a sculpture park of dizzying imagination. The whole is inspired by Sir Michael Hill: jeweller, golfer and believer that the seeing-touching physicality of big metallic art can change society.

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Wolves are Coming, Liu Ruowang, 2011, Warrior figure 3m high, 110 wolves 2m long, Cast iron

The dominant work, next to the 18th fairway and visible from the discrete clubhouse, is a sculpture like no other. A massive oriental warrior wielding a two-handed sword fends off 110 howling-hungry wolves. This is Liu Ruowangs “Wolves are Coming.” (We get up close and personal with the wolves coming down the 18th fairway.)

On every hole, there is a heart-stopping distraction. Golf takes second place.

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The Calici Scythe, Paul Dibble, 2001, 2.3m high, Cast bronze

Near the second fairway, a prominent and intriguing but rather absurd rabbitoid figure stands atop a pair of smiling lips atop a sphere atop a cube. I wander around it amused and confused. Only later do I understand that this is a reference to the smiling farmers of the area who, by introducing the calici virus to the rabbit population, believed their vermin woes were over. The rabbits – thanks to their resilient immune systems – have since come back with a vengeance… and have the last smile!

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Dragonflies, Mark Hill, 2006, Welded stainless steel and industrial ceramic (electrical pylon insulators)

The course-cum-sculpture park is a dream. I love it. The challenging sixth hole has a water hazard in front of the green. Giant shiny dragonflies scoot over the surface. Their bodies are made of those big ceramic insulator things from electricity pylons. Large trout swim by.

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Solace in the Wind, Max Patte, 2012, 1.9m high, Cast iron

On the tenth hole, I walk over a stone bridge. On the parapet a naked iron man leans into a strong wind. He lifts his face up welcoming the powerful fresh gusts. He exudes peace of mind in solitude. I look closely at his hands and the strained muscles of his legs and abdomen. The anatomist in me sings.

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Untitled, Grant Williams, 2009, 7m high, Fibreglass and steel moving wind sculpture

Set against the rugged South Island lanscape, this smooth seedling-like giant tree-flower oversees the 15th fairway. It is totally mesmerizing. The “trunk” and the three individual “branches” all rotate silently around their axes. Everything is perfectly balanced. The mechanics of this classy kinetic work are invisible. It generates a calm mindset for a shot to the large green.

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Detail of “Wolves are Coming”

My drive on the eighteenth heads right. I encounter the wolves. They really want to sink their teeth into that warrior! They leave me a little breathless. It is impossible not to feel a primal fear. What would it be like to be set upon by a pack of these predators? At a more cerebral level, I try – but fail – to imagine the work involved in Liu’s masterpiece.

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Artist and year as yet unknown, Rhino head in riveted iron

After scrambling a rather undignified bogey on the eighteenth hole (I blame the wolves,) the  club house beckons. At the steps, I am captivated by a false rhinoceros head trophy made, surprisingly and expertly, from bits of galvanised iron riveted together. But it is just so rhino! I adore it. I suspect its presence is a little kiwi dig at the colonial nature of the traditional old British golf clubs? There is no information about who made it or when.

A day at The Hills is quite simply a wonderful experience. I mentally doff my hat to the man behind it all.