Like a religious sect honouring their God (Nan Goldin) at their place of worship (Tate Modern) we filled the floor of the Turbine Hall, sat on the floor intranced in one direction............ mesmerised by the gigantic screen which ran slideshows of her most iconic works and the missing links inbetween to reveal the whole story.................
The visual overload was accompanied by a sensational symphonic soundscape courtesy of 2 performances. The first by John Kelly, a contemporary of Goldin from NYC whose voice was so accomplished it made your spine tingle and eyebrows rise off your forehead. The second was composed by Patrick Wolf and performed with his family (quite literally with one) of musical collaborators. As the images morphed in narrative, Patrick's set sequentially switched in perfect timing. The emotional trip through Nan's lifes work came to an end with an extensive dedication list to the friends she has lost along the way. Although it punctuated the realisation of her subject's sufference, I think it was more an indication to celebrate their lives through sharing the moments she captured in spending time with them.
Sorry to get a bit sincere. The objective of the blog is to share colour and delight but occasionally I may derail when its neccessary!
(Here is photographer Bella after the show)
What a lovely post.
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