Gillian Wearing is spilling your secrets

The First Art Newspaper on the Net    Established in 1996 Tuesday, June 25, 2024

Gillian Wearing is spilling your secrets
An installation view of “Gillian Wearing: Wearing Masks,” with “My Charms" (2021), left, and “Rock ‘n’ Roll 70” (2015), at the Guggenheim Museum in New York. What makes this British Turner Prize winner maddening also makes her fascinating — now her confessional art is on view in “Wearing Masks,” her first American museum retrospective. Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation via The New York Time.

by Will Heinrich

NEW YORK, NY.- Gillian Wearing, one of the Young British Artists (or YBAs) of the early 1990s, sailed to success on a tide of provocative confessional work. The confessions weren’t her own: Using masks, cue cards, and other distancing devices, she has been able to convince a stream of ordinary people to disgorge their most shameful secrets on camera.

Since 1997, when she was awarded the Turner Prize, Wearing, now 57, has covered a lot of ground. She’s continued to amass confessions in photographs and on video, and she’s made elaborate self-portraits in which she, too, appears in disguise. She’s also been commissioned to make public sculptures of average citizens, constructed ingenious lightbox videos that look like still photos till they startle you by moving, and even, during COVID lockdown, run off a smattering of paintings.

Samples of all this work are now installed in an expansive new retrospective at the Guggenheim, her first in the United States. Aptly, if inevitably, the show is called “Wearing Masks.” Despite its variety, though, everything in it revolves around a single question: Who are you, and can I ever really know you?

It’s a question she addresses to her family, friends, strangers and herself, and it could, given a chance, lead into rich psychological, philosophical or even theological discoveries. But Wearing is so fascinated by the question that she’s never willing to let it go that far. She typically strips the stories she amasses of their context and makes sure that when she does appear on camera herself, it’s never too revealing.

When her approach works, it powerfully destabilizes the way you understand what you’re looking at, and can even enlarge your sense of what’s possible in art. When it fails, it feels exploitative and suffocating. Frequently, it’s all of the above.

Wearing first becomes entranced with the challenge of getting to know strangers — a stand-in for empathizing with people in her own life — in “Homage to the woman with the bandaged face who I saw yesterday down Walworth Road,” a short video from 1995. Seven minutes long and narrated exclusively with subtitles, the video purports to document a memorable London encounter and Wearing’s own curious reaction to it. Catching sight of a paperwhite face, Wearing realizes it’s a woman wearing a mask of bandages; later, unable to forget the image, she dons bandages herself and sets out to record strangers’ reactions to her inhuman new visage.

It looks like a true story of Wearing’s own, a sincere account put together with hand-held camera work and patchy sound — and indeed, she did really see a bandaged woman. But the video is more sophisticated — and less trustworthy — than it lets on. Is Wearing an actor or a character? And when a subtitle claims, “I was tormented by adverse reactions to my appearance,” even as you watch her deliberately provoking responses, the contradiction seems designed to underline the deceptiveness of the medium.

For a striking photo series she made around the same time, titled “Signs that say what you want them to say and not Signs that say what someone else wants you to say,” Wearing shot people holding large sheets of paper lettered with a panoply of political slogans, religious messages, fragmentary non sequiturs, and dire disclosures that they chose themselves. (Wearing made more than 100 of these photos; 63 are shown here.)

The images alone are full of information — facial expressions, bodily postures, clothing choices, all sorts of handwriting and ways of holding a sign — but the written content itself is fascinating, too. “Today is a wonderful day because Krishna made it,” one man wants you to know, while another presents the gnomic advice, “Cut off the head and the body will die.” A confident businessman says simply, “I’m desperate,” and a woman smiles as she presents the sentence, “I’m depressed at the moment.” However suggestive the details, though, they all point to so much more unsaid that in the end you’re left with the unsettling suspicion that you can never really know what anybody is thinking.

In two large series from the mid-aughts, Wearing meticulously re-creates family photos (“Family Album”) and art-historical portraits (“Spiritual Family”), using highly realistic silicone prostheses to play every role. As explorations of artistic or genetic ancestry, they’re not especially compelling. But as meditations on the limits of both photography and empathy, they’re quite effective.

Walking past Wearing’s parents and siblings, or her artistic forebears, you might take the images, so to speak, at face value. But once you notice the eyeholes, and realize you’re looking at masks, you can’t help searching Wearing’s gaze for expressions. Are her eyes really colder and more ethereal when she plays the German social portraitist August Sander? Does she manage to make them look warmer in a mask of the New York street photographer Weegee? Or are you just attributing human expressions to plastic faces you happen to recognize?

Still, there’s a slippery line between exposing epistemological uncertainty and imposing it. In a series of polyptychs, “A Woman Called Theresa,” Wearing pairs photos of the woman in bed with seven different lovers, all “street drinkers” like Theresa, with actual notes the men have written about her, most of them disparaging. Because Wearing lets this information, however partial and edited, speak for itself, the results are heartbreaking.

“Fear and Loathing,” the latest in a series of videos in which people divulge their secrets while wearing creepy masks, is different. A man with a doll’s head describing his inexplicable mayonnaise phobia is kind of funny, though the joke may still be on him. A woman recounting horrific sexual abuse she’s suffered — in a similarly off-putting plastic face — is simply infuriating, less an exposure of our inability to understand the woman’s pain than Wearing willfully refusing to let us try.

In her most recent works — a vitrine of Polaroid selfies, a wall of computer-aged self-portraits, and a faux-advertising video in which actors wear digital Gillian Wearing masks — Wearing dives headlong into self-portrait as conceptual performance, but the sheer number of poses muddy the idea without adding any real substance.

Photographers of the past, like August Sander and Weegee, or like Diane Arbus, had distinct voices because they had particular aesthetic preferences and points of view. You get the sense of who they were as artists from what they chose to shoot, and how they shot it. But they were also genuinely interested in the people they were photographing, and that interest came across. What Wearing does — and it’s both her strength and her weakness — is to use people’s stories, and even her own, as material to illustrate high-concept ideas. What is identity? What is authenticity? What kind of media can you trust? Without answers, these questions are fascinating, and maddening, and eternal.

'Gillian Wearing: Wearing Masks'

Through April 4, Guggenheim Museum, 1071 Fifth Ave., Manhattan; 212-423-3500; Timed tickets are required for entry. Visitors over age 12 must show proof of a COVID-19 vaccination to enter the museum, and masks are required.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

Today's News

November 22, 2021

The art of storytelling in Andalusian Baroque painting arrives at the Prado Museum

Exhibition features over forty works by Impressionist master Camille Pissarro

Exhibition explores Alexander Calder's enduring and unmistakable influence on contemporary art

Eli Wilner & Company reframes Alfred Jacob Miller's "Our Camp" for the Buffalo Bill Center of the West

Jeu de Paume opens 'Masterworks of Modern Photography 1900-1940: The Thomas Walther Collection'

Rare Einstein manuscript set to fetch millions

Exhibition presents photographic prints selected by Annie Leibovitz from her acclaimed body of work

New exhibition celebrates collaborations of French designers, Ronan and Erwan Bouroullec

The San Diego Museum of Art opens 'Masters of Photography: The Garner Collection'

First major retrospective of Andrea Bowers opens at the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago

Gillian Wearing is spilling your secrets

Olivia Walton to lead Crystal Bridges board

Works by creator of much-loved Alice in Wonderland sculpture in Central Park coming up for auction

The New Children's Museum in San Diego names new leader

Exhibition of new paintings by Grace Weaver opens at James Cohan

Sculptures installed in the gardens around Firstsite as part of a new project

Curators get share of £300,000 to deepen collections knowledge

Iran's Farhadi threatens not to represent Iran at Oscars

The New Art Dealers Alliance hosts exhibition of works by Nokukhanya Langa, presented by Ballon Rouge

Dutch photographer Frank van Driel exhibits 'The Art of Perception'

Nairy Baghramian presents an installation at Vienna's Secession

Art Gallery of NSW marks 'topping out' for Sydney Modern Project

Mexico fights 'plagiarism' with indigenous fashion fair

Venezuela sets largest orchestra world record

Museums, Exhibits, Artists, Milestones, Digital Art, Architecture, Photography,
Photographers, Special Photos, Special Reports, Featured Stories, Auctions, Art Fairs,
Anecdotes, Art Quiz, Education, Mythology, 3D Images, Last Week, .


Ignacio Villarreal
(1941 - 2019)
Editor & Publisher: Jose Villarreal
Art Director: Juan José Sepúlveda Ramírez
Writer: Ofelia Zurbia Betancourt

Royalville Communications, Inc
Founder's Site. Hommage
to a Mexican poet.

The First Art Newspaper on the Net. The Best Versions Of Ave Maria Song Junco de la Vega Site Ignacio Villarreal Site
Tell a Friend
Dear User, please complete the form below in order to recommend the Artdaily newsletter to someone you know.
Please complete all fields marked *.
Sending Mail
Sending Successful