Tom Jeffreys is extremely disappointed by Charles Saatchi's latest exhibition - entirely devoted to sculpture.
The latest major show has opened at the Saatchi Gallery, and boy is it a let-down. For the first time, Charles Saatchi's usually impressive contemporary art institution on the King's Road is devoted entirely to three-dimensional works, in an attempt to provide a survey of the state of sculpture today, and, as the title suggests, posit possible directions for the medium's immediate future. This is the kind of show the Saatchi Gallery should excel at – yes, his shows are always very patchy, and with a tendency towards bombast, but there's usually some quality work here too. Not this time, sadly.
Almost without exception, the works that make up The Shape of Things to Come are large, brash, ugly, vulgar and crude. They make plenty of noise, but have nothing to say. Kris Martin presents eight standing rocks; David Altmejd some vile mixed media kitsch; Thomas Houseago some crudely primitive figures; Folkert de Jong a load of neon figurines; and John Baldessari an oversized wall-mounted ear-trumpet. There's Arts & Crafts boxes by David Thorpe, a ludicrously camp 'urban' installation by Sterling Ruby and some big gnarly giants from Martin Honert.
The exhibition's nadir – and this is saying something – is probably Matthew Brannon's “sculpture of an installation” entitled 'Nevertheless'. It looks a bit like part of a hospital – as if Matthew Darbyshire lost interest half-way through one of his similarly literal pieces – but of course it's sooooo much more than that. According to Brannon, “Nevertheless is an adverb comprised of three words: never – the – less. It became my stance against the panic that ensued from the economic collapse.” Wowsers. And this, apparently from “an artist known for his humour”.
Clutching at straws, and there are some points of note: Roger Hiorns' model of Notre Dame covered in copper sulphate crystals is an interesting precursor to the acclaimed Seizure; Bjorn Dahlem's wood and neon structure packs a pleasantly DIY geometric punch; Peter Buggenhout's sculptures possess some intriguing textural marks; David Batchelor's series of light boxes on shelving units is kind of cool; and Anselm Reyle's cascade of neon and chains has an undeniable visual force. Whether, as claimed, it “updates and questions the authenticity of Modernist paradigms, while ambiguously perpetuating their canonisation” is probably open to debate.
In short, this is an extremely disappointing show. The Shape of Things to Come may profess to explore the state of three-dimensional art, but sadly nothing here is anything more than one-dimensional. If this is indeed the future, I'm happy to stay stuck in the past.
The Shape of Things to Come is at the Saatchi Gallery until 16th October 2011.
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