Musing on Sunflower Seeds

Venue: Tate Modern (http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/)

Oyster: Blackfriars

Art galleries are inevitably going to be my main domain on here, as there are so many in London and most of them are as free as air, local newspapers and plastic cutlery. But I really don’t mind – I love art. I’m no expert though - I went down the literary and performing arts road instead. I don’t know much about art history and I could only name about a dozen artists at the most. But I really like looking at art and appreciating it.

Last week took me to the Tate Modern – notorious odd spot where modern work like this is placed to puzzle us.

You hear a lot of “phh, I could have done that!” at these places. But the point is, we didn’t do it – they did, and now we’re just kicking ourselves because we didn’t think of it first. 

Take Ai Wei Wei’s The Unilever Series – Sunflower Seeds (http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/unileverseries2010/default.shtm) – one of the main reasons I revisited the Tate. Millions of handcrafted porcelain sunflower seeds fill the lower entrance hall. At first it doesn’t look like much. In fact, I thought I was missing something in the sea of grey. But when you look closer it’s fascinating – each one had to be carefully made, carefully placed. It sparks off fireworks of philosophical metaphors: the huge mass of life, the relative futility and inconsequence of the individual, the nearing improbable chance of the arrangement of the seeds.

I found a fantastic quote about chance and fate the other day – one of Ian McEwan’s gems. Henry Perowne, the endlessly philosophising surgeon and hero of Saturday “never believed in fate or providence, or the future being made by someone in the sky. Instead, at every instant, a trillion trillion possible futures; the pickiness of pure chance and physical laws seemed like freedom from the scheming of a gloomy god.” How wonderful. I very much agree Henry.

Sorry for sidetracking, but these kinds of things do just occur to me when I’m looking at artwork! Despite the enormous effect the exhibit had on me, I still didn’t appreciate the piece as it was supposed to be appreciated. Think how many more deep and powerful thoughts I would have had if I’d been allowed to walk, frolic and generally trample on the porcelain harvest?  This is how Ai originally designed the work – to be interactively processed and experienced. 

But the Tate had the final say - “Although porcelain is very robust, we have been advised that the interaction of visitors with the sculpture can cause dust which could be damaging to health following repeated inhalation over a long period of time. In consequence, Tate, in consultation with the artist, has decided not to allow members of the public to walk across the sculpture.”

A shame really. I would have liked to make my way across with the healthy crunch of seeds under my feet, kicking up clouds of ceramic dust. What metaphors would I have constructed then? Thoughts of dictators, kings and gods? Thoughts on war and leadership?

That’s what’s so wonderful about art – good art in any case. It asks question after question and provokes thought. And if you go to the Tate you’ll find a crowd of people on the sidelines of Ai Wei Wei’s great installation: taking photos, talking quietly, frowning, squinting. All deep in thought.


And if sunflower seeds aren't your bag, there are always the classic incumbents to peruse on the upper floors...