Nigel Ip

I want a plushie.

That is what the Philip Guston exhibition at Tate Modern provokes in me.

The travelling exhibition received a lot of controversy in its earlier American run due to Guston’s depictions of Ku Klux Klan figures, leading many to worry that this exhibition would, in essence, promote white supremacy somehow. But the Tate show navigates this tricky situation with remarkable tact.

As the exhibition makes very clear, the Jewish artist was interested in depicting episodes of violence and oppression throughout all of history. Naturally, some of humanity’s worst atrocities and delicate topics are included among his subject matter, but it all centres around the impact on the oppressed and innocent, such as children.

In reality, the ‘Hoods’ are limited to just a single room; a few others are dotted around here and there, usually serving little purpose. The truth is, they’re really damn cute, non-threateningly driving off in their blocky cars like a modern Flintstones adaptation. This is poignant because Guston wanted to illustrate how these figures of malice and division are present everywhere around us, like he’s lifting away our veil of ignorance.

The rest of the exhibition, however, is devoted to his abstract expressionist works, which appear worlds apart from his recognisable ‘Hoods’. Yet this experiment in rejecting pictorial space comes out later in the use of compressed and unusual perspectives. The final rooms feel very much like stills from a quirky animation. Meanwhile, his earliest works were heavily influenced by the Surrealism of Giorgio de Chirico and René Magritte; I certainly wasn’t expecting to see a Madonna and Child leaping at me like a Rosso Fiorentino.

Despite some difficult and depressing themes, this was a surprisingly light exhibition that manages to balance out the more sensitive aspects of his art. Well worth a visit.

Philip Guston runs from 5 October 2023 to 25 February 2024 at Tate Modern, London, https://www.tate.org.uk/