Grayson Perry
"Grayson Perry" by David Gleeson, Winter 2006, pp. 73-74
Having negotiated the steps to Britart’s A-list, Grayson Perry has successfully arrived. He’s produced distinctive, easily recognized work, been bought by Saatchi and photographed with Elton John, won the Turner Prize and now joins Tracey Emin and Damien Hirst at the celebrity peak. He also, no doubt, finds himself at the “what next?” point. Whereas the other two artists continue churning out the same old product to the point of self-parody, Perry has wisely taken a look at his oeuvre and chanced upon a very smart way to broaden and develop it.
Luckily for him, a new museum was opened last year in Lincoln, Lincolnshire, with a canny senior keeper keen to bring more contemporary art to that particular corner of regional England. Enticed by an invitation to both show new work and curate an exhibition drawn from the vast local-history archives, Perry assembled a fascinating collection of objects that was both museum display and contemporary installation. So successful was this experiment in artist-curatorship that Perry’s dealer arranged its transfer to London.
Of course, such exercises are nothing new. At their best, they deflate the self-importance of curators with tangible proof that anyone can do it. But they can also embarrassingly expose a callow vanity and lack of awareness in the artist-curator. Happily, this serendipitous collaboration between Perry and Lincoln’s museum was about as good as it can be. Being allowed to select freely from history’s storerooms was obviously inspiring for Perry; both his own work and the objects chosen assumed a new, surprisingly reinvigorated meaning.
At both venues, the objects were dramatically lit in a darkened gallery, emphasizing their ghostly past and Perry’s thematic conceits. Dominating the show was a large wooden horse-drawn Victorian hearse, around which were gathered agricultural tools, clothes and costumes, needlework samplers, hunting implements and, throughout the display, works by Perry. These works included four of his large pots, their subject matter ranging from modern rural and urban life to the suffering of women; an embroidered sampler (predictably overtly sexual and atheistic in contrast with Victorian examples); fake sepia photographs of the artist as a Victorian woman; and Angel of the South, a small coffin dedicated to dead children. The harsh view of rural Victorian life that the display evoked was the museological equivalent of Perry’s pots, whose colourful beauty draws viewers in to behold often-horrific scenes. This fascinating installation, haunted by the past, was a deft way for the artist to hint at what we can expect from him in the future.
Subscribe to Canadian Art today and save 30% off the newstand price.
