Dan Flavin: A Retrospective
fluorescence is ... a luminescence that is mostly found as an optical phenomenon in cold bodies, in which a molecule absorbs a high-energy photon, and re-emits it as a lower-energy photon with a longer wavelength.
Some would say that a sure sign of daftness is ... paying £7.50 to see lots of fluorescent tubes.
Being mindful of the fact that Dan Flavin's exhibition was nearly ready to move on to the next town, I saw this wet Saturday afternoon as a perfect opportunity to check it out. Dan Flavin: A Retrospective has illuminated the grey South Bank of London since last January and will finish up on April 2nd. Housed in the Hayward Gallery, which on first impression reminded me of the UCG concourse, it claims to be the first comprehensive look at the work of a man who passed away in 1996.
Upon entering the first room of the exhibition, I got to thinking that I may well be the star of this light show. Why? Imagine if you can a leopard slinking around looking for better camouflage. Then think of a Irishman with three gazillion freckles being exposed to a few hundred different fluorescent strips of light. You get the picture. Quite frankly, I'm surprised I wasn't offered some part in the exhibition itself.
An important thing to realise when looking at this exhibition is that the fluorescent tubes themselves are only the medium. The real art to be seen here is the light that emits from the different displays. I remember wan light throbbing from our kitchen ceiling when I was a kid, but this is different. An explosion of colourful lights of varying length are used in an array patterns, angles and positions in rooms that are deliberately sparse with the aim of focusing your attention.
Exhibit 10, created in 1972-73, is used on all the advertising pamphlets and justifiably so as it really is the most interesting. One side has intense green light coming from a grille of upright tubes, while the reverse uses yellow light. A gap exists between the two sides and the wall. If you allow your eyes to cross for long enough, the colour becomes an interesting mélange of turquoise blue and white.
Abstract maybe, and definitely not everyone's cup of tea, this artform's strong point is its ability to transform banal objects into high-art media. If you're in London in the next week or so, it's worth a look.
Published by Colm.
Some would say that a sure sign of daftness is ... paying £7.50 to see lots of fluorescent tubes.
Being mindful of the fact that Dan Flavin's exhibition was nearly ready to move on to the next town, I saw this wet Saturday afternoon as a perfect opportunity to check it out. Dan Flavin: A Retrospective has illuminated the grey South Bank of London since last January and will finish up on April 2nd. Housed in the Hayward Gallery, which on first impression reminded me of the UCG concourse, it claims to be the first comprehensive look at the work of a man who passed away in 1996.
Upon entering the first room of the exhibition, I got to thinking that I may well be the star of this light show. Why? Imagine if you can a leopard slinking around looking for better camouflage. Then think of a Irishman with three gazillion freckles being exposed to a few hundred different fluorescent strips of light. You get the picture. Quite frankly, I'm surprised I wasn't offered some part in the exhibition itself.
An important thing to realise when looking at this exhibition is that the fluorescent tubes themselves are only the medium. The real art to be seen here is the light that emits from the different displays. I remember wan light throbbing from our kitchen ceiling when I was a kid, but this is different. An explosion of colourful lights of varying length are used in an array patterns, angles and positions in rooms that are deliberately sparse with the aim of focusing your attention.
Exhibit 10, created in 1972-73, is used on all the advertising pamphlets and justifiably so as it really is the most interesting. One side has intense green light coming from a grille of upright tubes, while the reverse uses yellow light. A gap exists between the two sides and the wall. If you allow your eyes to cross for long enough, the colour becomes an interesting mélange of turquoise blue and white.
Abstract maybe, and definitely not everyone's cup of tea, this artform's strong point is its ability to transform banal objects into high-art media. If you're in London in the next week or so, it's worth a look.
Published by Colm.
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