Skinny Minnies

Saw the Giacometti exhibition at the Tate Modern last week. What an amazing space the Tate is, particularly if, like lucky me, you are invited to the swanky opening night and you get to walk through the Turbine Hall after hours. It truly seems like the biggest building in London when it’s empty, and there are curious shadows cast by the metal beams high, high up in the ceiling that you never notice when the place is stuffed with confused art lovers trying to find their way around.

I have to be honest, I’ve never loved Giacometti, particularly after seeing the famous Etruscan statue Ombra della Sera, said to date from the third century BC:

Mind you, Giacometti seems to have been a tireless worker, producing endless creations that he laboured over with enormous intensity – though he still managed to get up at noon and spend plenty of time lounging around Parisian bars as well. He was admired by Picasso, the Surrealists and loads of art critics. Just not really by me. I dare say he’ll survive that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I loved the way the Tate has staged the exhibition, with statues arranged cunningly on plinths and shelves in tones which lend etiolated shadows to the sculptures and add to their sense of mystery. My favourite was an outstretched arm. It took me a while to realise that the thing I actually liked about it was its horizontal nature.

If you like tall things, and you like Giacometti, then this is the exhibition for you. It’s on until the 10th September.

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