We had a depressing conversation about politics before going to see this free exhibition at Tate Britain. It was completely cathartic to see what you have been feeling articulated so clearly through sculpture and collage. I felt happy- even though the subject matter of this is so critical. Essentially, it's a sculpture procession based on the evils of colonialism, with costumed figures displaying and wearing digitally-printed share certificates, currency, maps: you name it, it's there. Facial expressions are grotesque, beautiful, weary, alien, horrified, superior: every emotion and manifestation of feelings. Everyone is here, yet nobody is real. The child-size figures often aren't children and the 'adults' reference characters from Greek mythology, carnival, science fiction, children's comics: everyone you ever imagined in your dreams and nightmares, spilling through the hall in a riot of primary colours. Many of the figures ride on horses that have oddly knowing expressions on their horsy faces. Sometimes, you just feel glad that a particular artist exists: I certainly did today.
On the way there, I got locked into a housing estate in Pimlico. I heard a beautiful solo tenor voice singing in an African language reverberating across the whole courtyard from an upper floor, and I went through some gates to listen and record a bit of it. It was mesmerising. The gates slowly swung shut and locked behind me. I had to knock on someone's door to get out. Serves me right for being curious.
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