At the risk of sounding like a total philistine, I just had to Google the definition of “conceptual”. I mean like, I get it. But I don’t like get it, get it. Google’s definition tells me conceptual means to be “based on or relating to ideas or concepts.” Which isn’t wholly fulfilling. A bit abstract. Now, conceptual art, that’s a whole new world of confusion. Nevertheless, I have decided to try and explain it to you lovely readers. Not that I know a thibg about art. Who’s Picasso again? But anyway, here goes: man/woman artiste decides painting is a little too, well, obvious, you know? And like, the message was like, way way more important that the medium. This isn’t about standard forms of beauty, god. Man/woman then thinks, well, being in a gallery in pretty boring, so I’ll like stick a chair to a wall. Or like, pile together a used bottle of toothpaste and a tennis ball. That’s a comment on consumerism or something. Or this errant bit of toothpaste represents the male phallus in art. And with that, conceptual art is birthed. Concepts, ideas, rule breaking!
But for those of you who want their art history lessons from well, professionals, we recommend you take yourselves to Tate Britain’s latest exhibition, Conceptual Art in Britain 1964–1979 featuring works from Art & Language, Victor Burgin, Bruce McLean and Stephen Willats. In the Tate’s words, “conceptual art was a ballsy backlash to modern art. Conceptual art was born out of a rejection of everything art had become, from the conventional use of plinths in sculpture, to the rising price tags of modern art works.” But don’t get it twisted dear readers, this in not conceptual art of the condom-strewn bed sort. No, this is art of the terribly intellectual, 1960s type – you know, pile o’bricks, a glass of water on a shelf etc. In the words of the – “radical and controversial work that both scrutinised and consistently took inspiration from the real world.”
“Seen within the context of its time,” the blurb says “this show reveals conceptual art’s lasting legacy.” But if that all sounds a bit… heavy, we are promised is a big pile of oranges (Soul City by Roelof Louw, above) which you can remove from the display and eat. Edible art? Delicioso. Worth the twelve quid ticket price.
Conceptual Art in Britain 1964–1979 is on at Tate Britain from April 12 – August 29 2016
Top: Roelof Louw, Soul City (Pyramid of Oranges) 1967
Bottom: Bruce McLean, Pose Work for Plinths 3 1971
