Where Will The City Speak For Me?

An exploration of feminist art in London, by Charlotte Malcolm

I spent four hours feeling travel sick on a coach from Sheffield to London. After such a journey and having checked into my hostel mid afternoon, I knew the clock was ticking to see as much art as I could. With sodden socks and my coat hood desperately tied around my face in a sad attempt to stay dry, I smiled knowing it was good weather for gallery hopping.

Beginning at Tate Modern, I almost sprinted to the fourth floor of the Natalie Bell building. Situated in the Joiner galleries was an exhibition of the Guerrilla Girls’ work, spanning 30 years and showcasing some of their most well-known pieces such as ‘The Advantages Of Being A Woman Artist’ (1988), ‘The Birth Of Feminism’ (2001) and ‘Do Women Have To Be Naked To Get Into The Met. Museum?’ (2012). The room was plastered with striking imagery, neon pink and the Futura Extra Bold Condensed font that they are recognised for. 

I took in each fly poster with the care they deserved, alongside a dozen other women reading in silence. The only noise in the room came from a video and sound piece titled ‘Guerrilla Girls: Guide To Behaving Badly’ (2016). 

A glass cabinet stretched along one wall filled with their zine ‘Bitches, Bimbos and Ballbreakers: The Guerrilla Girls’ Illustrated Guide To Female Stereotypes’ (2004-2012) open to articles reflecting on race, class and gender issues such as the idea of being a tomboy.

What a dream to see their work in the flesh. Some of the earliest feminist work I was exposed to and fell in love with aged 11. I loved the assertive power of their messages. The bold typography and vivid colours; oh how I loathed pink as a child and was unsure why. I admire these women for working anonymously, a lifetime’s worth of work without being credited to it because they believe their message is more powerful without the focus on the people creating it. How powerful to have been exposed to this work so young, and how grateful I am to be able to view it in person and have it be just as impactful for me. 

Without sounding too idealistic, the relevance of such works thirty years from their creation is disappointing at best. How far do we still have to go as a society for women artists to no longer have to spell it out for us? Within Tate Modern’s collection here included ‘You’re Seeing Less Than Half The Picture’ (1989) and ‘3 White Women, 1 Woman of Color and No Men of Color out of 71 Artists?’ (1997) which both point directly at the inequality in museums showcasing art of a majority white male background. Seeing the dates when these pieces were made you feel as though such time has passed, surely we have moved forward as a society, and yet they are still making work like this in 2024 because not enough progress has happened.

I stayed out of the rain and in the Tate until closing, and moved to The Chandos in Covent Garden for a well earned pint to discuss art with friends after.

Rising early the following day I made my way through Hyde Park, and the sweet sunshine that only comes after heavy rain, to the Serpentine South Gallery for ‘Thinking Of You. I Mean Me. I Mean You.’. Barbara Kruger’s first institutional show in London in over twenty years. Running from February 1st to March 17th 2024, it featured a mass collection of her work curated beautifully in a compact space.

This exhibition included Kruger’s best known work from the past 47 years, like ‘Untitled (I Shop Therefore I Am)’ (1987/2019) and ‘Untitled (Your Body Is A Battleground)’ (1989/2019). A barrage of red and black, iconic imagery and flashing screens, this exhibition encapsulated the essence of Kruger’s art in its entirety.

The first room, the south gallery, was completely wallpapered with digital prints of her collage ‘Untitled (That’s the way we do it)’ (2011/2020) accompanied by an LED panel across the opposite wall playing ‘Untitled (I shop therefore I am)’ (2011/2020) on repeat. It demanded careful attention to each piece, as some of the images and writing were very small, and fantastically showed Kruger’s humour and iconic style. 

Similar to the Guerilla Girls, Kruger uses Futura Bold font for both clarity and impact, alongside black and white imagery, to replicate advertisements and focus attention on her message. “Her practice explores complex mechanisms of power, gender, class, and capital. In her work, Kruger uses direct address, a form of communication popular in advertising, to speak to viewers about contemporary modes of consumption.” (Excerpt from exhibition guide)

Through the east gallery I saw further video installations; ‘Pledge, Will, Vow’ (1988/2020) a three-channel video installation displaying text rapidly writing and rewriting itself, as though a person was consciously changing their train of thought, accompanied by a bullet-like sound with each letter. ‘Untitled (Artform)’ (2016/2020) was a two-channel video installation of white walls and constant black text, which then was circled as if by a writer and sections of writing were then defined and further delved into all at once.

The north gallery held ‘Untitled (No comment)’ (2020) a three-channel video installation dominating the entire space. As the debut of this work in London, and at the longest runtime of all the works displayed (9 min. 25 sec.), this piece had the most visitors in the space. Featuring found images, text and audio ranging from presidential speeches to popular internet memes, Kruger perfectly demonstrated her wit and absurdity with direct questions and demands for equality and change.

Behind the north gallery was the education space dominated by black text. ‘Untitled (FOREVER)’ (2017) was a digital print shrinking viewers into her work. The floor was a quote from George Orwell’s novel 1984, ‘If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever’ and then the walls engulfed the viewer with her text pieces.

Next to which was the west gallery, including sound pieces such as ‘Untitled (Your call has been forwarded…)’ (2021) which played on a constant loop and could be heard throughout the space, and ‘Untitled (Our leader)’ (1987/2020) a single channel video on LED panel focussing on the forever unsurprising disappointment at those in power. “I have no patience with people when they say they’re shocked. Nobody should be shocked by anything considering the histories of what we’ve done to one another.” (quote from the artist in the exhibition guide)

This show was another bucket list moment for me. Kruger was probably the first collage artist I knew and fell in love with. How reaffirming for an artist like myself, struggling to focus on the many disciplines that pull at my attention, to see work that condensed it all into one practice. This was difficult to leave, but I pressed onto The Photographers’ Gallery in Soho.

Here I indulged in the Deutsche Borse Photography Foundation Prize 2024 exhibitions. Starting on the top floor, was VALIE EXPORT’s famed self portraiture. My introduction to this wonderful pioneer of activism, I was immediately drawn to Hyperbulie (1973). Gelatin silver prints of a performance piece in which the artist forced her naked body through a space full of electrified wires. The extreme length in which she was willing to go for her art is admirable, willing her head against the wires, an act of will power and free expression.

Another piece commanding attention from other visitors was her video ‘TAPP und TASTKINO (TAP and TOUCH CINEMA)’ (1968/1989). A video of another performance where she wore a box over her bare chest, hidden only by two small curtains, inviting members of the public to touch her breasts momentarily while they locked eyes. “For as long as the citizen is satisfied with the reproduced copy of sexual freedom, the state is spared the sexual revolution. Tap and Touch Cinema is an example of how re-interpretation can activate the public.” (VALIE EXPORT)

EXPORT was twenty-eight years old at the time of that work, and being twenty-seven myself I find her admirable for her commitment, I do not think I would be so brave in public.

Pushing on through the gallery I came upon another artist new to myself, Lebohang Kganye. 

A small room with four separate works, each installation made up of photographs printed onto cardboard and wood to create four dimensional, life-sized dioramas with the ceiling light periodically changing angles to make the pieces come to life and to involve the viewer in the work by forcing them to move in the space. 

‘Mohlokomedi wa Tora’ (2018) was a stunning installation making use of light, silhouettes and personal images to “navigate the complexity of the South African experience” to explore the “process of decolonisation”. (Excerpt from gallery website)

It should not be the task of the artist to educate, but finding yourself in the work, and feeling hidden in the dark, you are embraced into her history and left wanting more.

As I was heading out of the gallery I saw inside the Bert Hardy collection a Picture Post page from November 1st 1941, open to an article titled “Should Women Wear Trousers?”. A ludicrous question to ask today, and humorous that it was ever in question. I wistfully hope that the other feminist work I had examined in London will one day be looked on with only a knowing smile that came from change.

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 Title for this review is taken from Helen Scalway’s The Contemporary Flaneuse: Exploring Strategies For The Drifter In A Feminine Mode (2002) she asks “where will the city speak for me?” and while I do not claim the title of flaneuse in this expedition around London as I had a definitive purpose when walking, I thought it apt to include in this journey.

All photos featured were taken by the writer.