It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
It’s a proven fact that different cultures view time in different ways, but what is most interesting is the universality of parallels over time and the cyclical nature of history.
So, it’s only fitting that almost 100 years later we are addressing Surrealism and reframing this discussion in the exhibition Surrealism Beyond Borders, a co-creation of gargantuan effort between The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and Tate Modern.
Its curatorial thread is embodied in the form of The Met’s Leonard A. Lauder Curator of Modern Art and Senior Research Coordinator in Modern and Contemporary Art, Stephanie D’Alessandro, and Tate Modern Senior Curator at Large, Matthew Gale.
Both curators and teams should be applauded for their titanic effort that, no doubt, must have at times felt borderline Sisyphean, particularly in having executed it during a full-blown pandemic. And yet, it also marks a pivot in curatorial practice and contextualisation, not only from a collaborative standpoint at such international scale, but also as a starting point to challenging art history doctrine and traditional, Euro-centric and Western curatorial narrative.
Entering the exhibition, we are greeted by Marcel Jean’s Armoire surréaliste (b. 1900-d.1993, 1941), a mid-war panel piece that echoes familiar-territory Surrealist paintings, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that the rest of the exhibition will be awash with recognised names in Surrealism until your eye scans, right beside it, Dorothea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (1943, USA), providing a further glimpse into what is yet to come.
The strength of this exhibition is its magnitude and diasporic breadth where we are introduced to Surrealism as a revolutionary and distinctly political ideology rather than the largely amusing, albeit provocative, art form that it is usually portrayed as.
For those new to Surrealism seen from this lens, its roots are distinctly European, with the word being coined in 1917 by the young French poet, Guillaume Apollinaire, and gathering momentum through World War I and into the 1920s, emerging fully formed, after a rough-and-tumble series of scuffles, in André Breton’s 1924 Surrealist Manifesto.
The exhibition has some exquisite explorations of the evolution of Surrealism beyond Western Europe, and the focal point here is, indeed, this journey and multiple reinterpretations and iterations of Surrealism.
From Koga Harue’s Umi (1929, Japan) to Wifredo Lam’s Bélial, Emperor of the Flies (1948, Cuba), via Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos, we see variations on the theme and the start of an important conversation that reflects not only on a historical plane the extent of Surrealism as a movement and ideology, but also as a modern-day precedent for collaboration and partnership between art institutions globally. A standout and humorous representation of this is Ted Joan’s 132-artist endless scroll, Exquisite Corpse, a Surrealist game carried out for over more than three decades that spanned from Osaka through to Cairo.
Where this exhibition falls short, however, is, ironically, in what also plays as its strength. Its curatorial ambition and narrative reconstruction are bold and welcome, yet there is still a slight feeling of Western self-congratulatory pats on the back as in the attempt to include the extent and diversity of artists it has in the exhibition, it has also lost its focus somewhat despite making the curatorial point of hanging all paintings without chronology or linearity. It is also worth noting that the majority of works are still Western in origin, though there is a notable number of women and queer artist representation, as well as, naturally, those from other cultures.
Nevertheless, these are minor niggles in what is overall an impressive exhibition held over two continents in major institutions. It sets the tone for future opportunity, and a continuation of international inclusivity and accessibility that the sector is in much need of, and a retraining of Art History that should continue to include the voices for which it is providing a platform.
Surrealism Beyond Borders is now open and showing at the Tate Modern until August 29th 2022.
