Shooting into the Corner, 2008-09
IMMEDIATELY, WE DISMISS THE SEX-SYMBOLISM AND RE-ASSOCIATE THESE LITTLE PIECES WITH SAND CASTLES WE MADE ON THE BEACH WHEN WE WERE KIDS.
SUPERSWEET has just landed in the British Isle. On top of our agenda is to hook y’all up with the latest crème de la crème of London’s art scene. That comes in form of the Anish Kapoor exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts.
A sculptor and master of illusion, Anish Kapoor was born in India in 1954. He moved to London in the 70s to study art first at Hornsey College of Arts and later at Chelsea School of Art and Design. His monochromatic and brightly coloured geometrical sculptures engage his audience and evoke all sort of visual mystery winning the artist international acclaim. In 1990, Kapoor’s genius is given an honourable seal of approval when he was chosen to represent Britain at the Venice Biennale. Just a year later, Kapoor was awarded the Turner Prize.
Kapoor’s exhibition, boasting magnificent sculptures and large-scale installations, is mostly retrospective. This, however, does not undermine the fun and joy one rarely associates with an art exhibition. At the RAA’s courtyard, we are wowed by the tower of steel bubbles spiraling towards the sky. Those metallic balls reflect the very different angles of the encircling, historical building and their surrounding. It seems we’re all in for a massive visual treat!
Whilst entering the Galleries, we leap our way through these colourful, geometrically shaped pigment works that grow on the floor and the walls. They are Kapoor’s signature sculptures that date back to the 80s. Instead of seeing them as boobs and curved penises, we see a flashback of some extraordinary childhood memory. Immediately, we dismiss the sex-symbolism and re-associate these little pieces with sand castles we made on the beach when we were kids. Ours were, admittedly, never so accomplished as Mr. Kapoor’s.
What’s more, there’s a massive sun shining! Well, that's an exaggeration. There is no sun inside the Royal Academy of Arts (or outside, as the English weather has it) but there is Yellow (1999), a 6 x 6 x 3m mock-painting installation the centre of which is scooped out to simulate the exuberance, vivacity and sublimity of our solar experience. In a weird and wonderful way, the cemented walls encircling the circular void space adds physicality to the nothingness, whilst the myriad shades of yellow inject vibrancy into the otherwise empty space. The similar hallucinatory trick applies to Hive (2009), a submariner-like oblong that reveals infinite darkness when one peeks into it. Unlike the “sun,” this is a more solemn and sinister display of illusion that invites as well as unnerves its audience. Unfortunately, climbing up into the Hive is strictly forbidden, and sunbathing is discouraged.
Kapoor’s vision of the seaside, we feel, is confirmed when we loiter into the adjacent gallery. There, we find a multitude of oversized, well-like “sand-worms” sculptures placed very closely to one another and presented just on some small planks of wood—as if they were just excavated from a nearby beach and transported to the exhibition. On the one hand, the realistic appearance of these “sand-worms” is repulsive causing us to creep across the gallery and avoid any physical contact with them. On the other, we feel tempted to tiptoe for a peek what’s inside each of these sculptures.
Before our spirit drops, we trot into a gallery filled with mirrors, mirrors and mirrors in different shapes and sizes. Together they form the Non-Objects series. Looking into each of them, this might not come as a surprise, you won’t find the “fairest” version of yourselves. The Non-Objects distort, stretch, expand, delete, or even, turn us upside down challenging the law of materiality with the immaterial reflections. Discomfort surfaces, as one feels less and less confident of what one true self actually looks like. Still, we can’t help thinking we are swept away from the sunny beach to the mirrored funhouse in a seaside arcade.
What else are in store for us? The eye-catching versions of an arcade train ride and a shooting game booth! Officially known as Shooting into the Corner (2008-9) and Svayambh (2007), they are the more recent additions to Kapoor’s artistic repertoire. The former is a canon firing the shell of red wax at 50 miles per hour at every twenty minutes into the smaller gallery. The latter, nicknamed the “train,” is a gargantuan trunk of red wax that slithers, at the ritualistic speed of 2 inches per minute on the rail track across RAA’s five galleries. Marked by its grotesque redness, the “train” slowly moves toward and away from us testing our patience as well as challenging our visual perception to recognize the movement from the seemingly non-movable object. In no time, we sense its threatening, uncomforting elephantine presence, the proximity to the object as well as the abundance of red wax that narrowly passes through the ornate arched mahogany doorways. The correlation between the “train” and the doorways is evident. The doorways reshape and deform the “train,” but in doing so, are themselves smeared by red gunk.
The “fun” elements are the ideal starting point to a more thorough examination of Kapoor’s illusionistic art. The “mirrors,” the “train,” or the “sun” in their very own ways trigger our physical and psychological experiences. Lovely and lively, the exhibition invokes all the little kids in us, massively. As a little kid, these alien objects frighten us, too. We are transported into a foreign psychological landscape. We feel uncomfortable, mentally challenged. That said, if only we had a candyfloss to comfort us, it would have been a perfectly magical day!
Anish Kapoor's showing at the Royal Academy of Arts daily until 11th December 2009.
Words: Poonperm Paitayawat
Photography: Dave Morgan