Spectator
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Traditionally, tapestries chronicled great moments in history in a wildly luxurious form, which helped warm chilly castles. They were also used to display the colours of trade unions and, of course, for hiding Polonius. As far as I know, nobody since William Morris, Picasso, Matisse and Chagall has taken tapestry seriously. Now comes Demons, Yarns and Tales at The Dairy, 7 Wakefield Street, London WC1 (from 10 to 22 November), an exhibition of 14 tapestries by international artists, including several YBAs. Each tapestry is handmade in a limited edition of five (the weaving was done in Shanghai). How do contemporary artists respond to a medium that naturally lends itself to narrative, graphic shapes, colour and carefully worked texture? Peter Blake has done a characteristic 'Alphabet', which translates well into a Pop art tapestry sampler. Paul Noble's pencil drawing, 'Villa Joe', took a year to weave into a vast cloth in 50 shades of grey. The work was copied into a scaled-up cartoon, the wool hand-dyed and approved before the weaving began. Yet the surface is almost too perfect - as if mechanically made. Grayson Perry's marvellous 'Vote Alan Measles for God' features his favourite teddy straddling the Twin Towers, with Bin Laden, oilrigs and other 9/11 memorabilia in classic Oriental carpet colours. His is the only piece in needlepoint stitches rather than woven tapestry, giving it touching signs of humanity. Gavin Turk's 'Mappa del Mundo' is an atlas with detritus forming the continents (see above), and Kara Walker's tapestry, with a background depicting the American civil war, has a disturbingly beautiful silhouette of a woman hanging, as racial violence erupts. Jenny Wilhide |