This exhibition at Tate modern promised to be a tantalising exploration into the correspondence between painting and photography. Well, the link between the two mediums in the exhibition was at best vague; at worst simply absent. Titled ‘Capturing the Moment’- not much of the artwork displayed was even about the capturing of any specific moment.
When I first walked in from the unusually sunny streets of Bankside, I was greeted by a room of exciting and renowned paintings. Faced immediately by some enchanting Lucian Freud’s- a personal favourite of mine- I was already happy. ‘Girl with a White Dog’ was a strong start to what would prove a confusing mix of paintings and photographs. Amongst others in that first room were Picasso’s cubist heads and a compelling Alice Neel painting of two boys on the streets of New York, which felt as though it could have been snapped by a street photographer in the 50s. This is exactly the sort of painting I expected to see, given its almost-photography quality. The strangest part, though, was Dorothea Lange’s infamous ‘Migrant Mother’ photograph plonked on the other side of the room. I love this photograph and it was great to see, but it was on its own in a room of paintings that seemingly had absolutely no link. Perhaps if hung next to the Alice Neel, it would have felt like a meaningful comment on ‘capturing the moment’...?
The second room had no photographs at all. This area would have formed a great part of a painting exhibition, featuring some interesting works by Francis Bacon and Paula Rego, to name a few, and climaxing with the large and vibrant ‘Trouble in Paradise’ by Cecily Brown. The sheer power of this part-abstract part-bodily painting was inspiring, and it’s definitely one of my favourites from the exhibition. How it links to photography or capturing a moment, though, remains to be seen.
Cecily Brown
I don’t remember any of room 3 and I’m not sure if that’s my fault, or if the work in there was just unremarkable. The next space, however, was a decent attempt to appeal to the exhibition’s narrative, and the works in there were pretty captivating. The large-scale photographs in this room all had one thing in common- a painting-like quality. Perhaps it was the scale being akin to that of classical paintings, but photography had been used in a way that was clearly inspired by the traditions of painting. ‘Paris, Montparnasse’ by Andras Gursky had me transfixed for a while; perhaps it was the extraordinary level of detail that gave it the elusive quality of a painting. Overall the photos in this room were very fitting for the exhibition, and I discovered some new photographers to look out for.
‘This is like a Rothko isn’t it’ was what I first heard upon entering this fifth room, which sounded promising. And it was; I was blown away by the beautifully sensitive photographs of Sugimoto. A selection of seascapes, they really were reminiscent of Rothko. This was it- the real overlap of photography and painting, and it was both beautiful and immensely satisfying. The whole room had a calm energy to it which paired perfectly with the view of St Paul’s and the Thames, framed by a window as if a painting or photograph itself.
Hiroshi Sugimoto
View of St Paul's
Gerhard Richter’s photo-like landscape paintings in the next room felt a little predictable. Despite being attractive paintings themselves, the idea of featuring paintings of photographs in a photorealistic style seems a bit too on-the-nose. Again, perhaps if curated amongst photographs, it may have been a more meaningful comment on how photography and painting feed into each other.
I’m going to group together the last two rooms, as they felt like one huge room of paintings. The exhibition featured no more photographs after Sugimoto’s seascapes, which seems like an odd choice. The last room could have been plucked out of an exhibition on modern painters. I wasn’t complaining- there were some fantastic works on show. Most had absolutely nothing to do with photography. In fact I think none of them did. The only exception, (and it's a stretch) could be Hockney’s ‘Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures)’ which stood pride of place with its impressive scale. Technically a snapshot of a specific event, this could appeal to the theme of capturing the moment, but I see it as more of a staged image intended to express Hockney’s homosexual relationship with the sitter. I find it surprising that there was no reference made to Hockney’s use of photography. The intersection of painting and photography (aka the whole theme of the exhibition) is something that Hockney has been grappling with since the 80s. Often also drawing on the flat surface of an ipad or iphone, his works foster a photographic quality; something especially interesting when considering that we now usually take and view photos on a phone. That none of Hockney’s photographic work was included seems like a real missed opportunity.
There were some really exciting contemporary artists featured in the last room, which was great to see. All of the paintings were a relatively large scale, so had a big impact and lots of room to breathe in the huge space. Large works by Micheal Armitage and Salman Toor particularly grabbed my attention and as a painter myself, I was pretty enchanted by their vibrant painterly quality. A strong representation of female and feminist painters in this last room boosted the whole exhibition and made it feel modern and relevant. Works by Lisa Brice, Miriam Cahn and Christina Quarles all used the female body to make political statements or challenge our ideas about womanhood. A valuable message; nothing to do with photography.
Miriam Cahn
The paintings on show were so strong that I truly believe this would have been far better as a painting exhibition. Or a feminist painting exhibition. Or a painting exhibition looking at the human figure. Or a nice mix of popular works from the Tate’s collection bundled into an exhibition. (Possibly the most accurate description of the outcome.) I should also note the quotes about painting and photography printed at jarring slanted angles across the walls. Who on earth signed off on that?! All of that said, the individual paintings and photographs on show were fantastic. The exhibition’s curating ultimately let it down; definitely confusing, not cohesive.
To see a dissonant mix of some excellent paintings and photographs, head down to Tate Modern before April 28th!
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