please empty your brain below

People not noticing the artwork is just plane sad.
's funny - it looks the same as it did a week ago, when the sign said 'Work in progress'.

I guess the true artistry happens during the pitch when the artist convinces someone to pay them money to produce this stuff.
Good for Richard on choosing artist over pilot!
Money for old rope, one might say.
I saw this being put together and thought it looked underwhelming, shame to see that's how it has ended up.

I loved the Louise Bourgeois spider and slides, but my personal favourite Turbine Hall piece has been Anis Kapoor's 'Marsyas' (http://db-artmag.com/cms/upload/51/feature/anishkapoor/20_anishkapoor07.jpg), which made fantastic use of the space, was a strangely beautiful thing, and was a genuine spectacle when you walked in. Nothing else seems to have come to terms with the sheer volume of the Turbine Hall.
I went to see this as well on the opening evening and I have to admit that my attention was drawn more to Doris Salcedo's long filled in crack in the floor, still clearly visible the length of the turbine hall. Sorry to say Tuttle's new work is draped in plenty of 'Emperor's New Clothes'
I'm sorry, but i can decide perfectly well whether I need to spend time seeing this, based on The Times art critic's review (a contender for Pseud's Corner if ever there was one:

"Tuttle is hard-pressed to explain his pieces, but he has ventured that it’s to do with text and textile having the same linguistic root. When pushed further, he sets off on a digressive marathon.
It’s impossible to extract any logical summary, but I feel sure that he is not a fraud. To me, Tuttle feels more like a man who has glimpsed something so far beyond our ordinary experience that he hasn’t the language to speak of it, but is determined to discover a way to conjure some instinctive alertness to its truth instead.
Tuttle uses textiles...to open our eyes and our senses and, through them, our ideas and thoughts to wider philosophical meanings. His work is at its most striking when it is at its most fragile, when it seems almost to hold the made and the unmade in lyrical balance. You probably wouldn’t even notice that some of the artworks were even present in the Whitechapel, were it not for the protective cordons. Strands of pale string are laid upon the floor."

Compete and Utter Bollocks.










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