LIVERPOOL UNLEASHED
by Richard Cork
(…) In the final Pilkingtons installation, Yayoi Kusama makes us feel this dilemma more keenly still. Entering her deceptively modest-sized white chamber, I found myself in a mirrored space with water on the floor. Small LED lights suspended from the ceiling and reflected an infinite number of times seemed to float in their millions all around and, at first, the sensation seemed intoxicating. Gradually, though, a profound sense of isolation set in.
Nor is Kusama alone in her determination to convey acute disquiet. The further I went in my exploration of the biennial, the more unnerving it became. On Renshaw Street, Manfredi Beninati invites us to pause in front of a grubby, poster-choked wall and peer through a dark gap. I had to press my nose right up against the glass before making out the living room within. Although empty, signs of its occupants could be seen everywhere. Breakfast remains lay abandoned on a table, while children’s drawings were strewn across the carpet. All this normality, however, was contradicted by a bizarre view of a tropical sunset flaring through a distant window. And suddenly, I glimpsed my own reflection in a mirror, staring into the room like a seedy voyeur bent on disrupting family life.
This emphasis on the macabre can also be found in the John Moores Painting Prize show at the Walker Art Gallery. Grant Foster’s “Hero Worship” focuses on a phantom-like figure with grim, manic eyes. (…)
Richard Cork, Financial Times, London, 11 October 2008
Copyright © 2008 Richard Cork / Financial Times