Lintels, 2001, All images courtesy of the Artist and Tate Modern
Gabriel Orozco
Tate Modern
19.01.2011- 25.04.2011
Being as alone as you inevitably are, and aware of the system, but not inside of it strictly, puts you in an interesting position to take what you want, and leave what you don’t.
In this way Orozco has an acute understanding of humanity, full of it’s contradictions and disparities, but seemingly accepts and declines to think about all of it, unless to some positive end, or to make work.
At first glance it seems to be some general art Provera re-think, given Orozco’s perchance to give new life to old objects, appropriating rubbish and lint from a washing machine as one might adule human remains in a graveyard. But on closer inspection, the clinical white gallery is utilized to great ironic effect, with objects literally telling a story through their collected shape and history of bumps and scratches.
There is a feeling of history being an almost maliable structure, at which we are at the forefront of during the present. I sensed from him an astute pride in the human race, and an almost naive love for humanity. He takes enjoyment in the playful aspect of life, where he re-invents games and toys whilst adding his own sinister twists. The re-curring theme of cars was, for me, an admittance of the addictive nature of obsession and almost sticky contagiousness of trend, which becomes human when tipped over the flood gates and swept up into popularity.
His work evidences an understanding of the disparity between the momentary nature of existence, and the never-ending cycle of evolution, which is discernible particularly in his work “Horses Running Endlessly”. There is also an understanding, and even utilization of the common misinterpretation, especially during childhood, that one’s mind is at the center of everything, and everything that happens is to either please or displease the mind in question. Indeed, Orozco shamelessly plays with the admittance that you can never step out of your own head.
Cats and Watermelons
Until You Find Another Yellow Schwalbe, 1995
Breath on Piano, 1993