nick cave: abusing the muse
This exhibition left me feeling only mildly interested. The material, which was separated into profound segments such as “Notebook”, “Typewriter”, and “The Return of the Notebook”, was definitely of a high calibre, but Cave’s creative process didn’t strike me as unique or brilliant enough to warrant an entire gallery worth of his notes plastered on the walls. That is not to say that the actual items in his collection didn’t strike a cord – Cave is a discerning hoarder. His books, for example, had me aching for the cabinet key in which they were presented – “The Anatomy of Melancholy” by Robert Burton, a truly vintage copy of “Lolita” by Nabokov, and the most exquisitely illustrated books on Saints.
On the whole, however, the current wasn’t strong enough to propel me into the bubbling lake of NickCave adoration. It was like the Andy Warhol exhibition, except the artist in question was still in stock of his mortality, which therefore imbued the entire show with somewhat smug, egocentric aura, bordering on pretension. Or, in other words, one should perhaps tame the desire of conceive of such a show, until, the one, is dead.
Alternativley, this entire venture could just be Cave himself poking a stick at the entire “living legend” concept- you wouldn’t put it past him.
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i would say the latter, who says nick cave doesn’t have a sense of humour? his concept of building a memorial to himself in his hometown, a statue of himself on a warhorse all muscular and heroic, he is brilliant and sarcastic, i think he knows what he is doing and doesn’t care if people don’t get it and think he’s a wanker.
alex
December 26, 2008 at 10:04 am
DId you happen to take a picture of the bookcase? Or of the books in the case? I’m doing a research paper on the influence of literature on Nick Cave and it would help greatly.Thanks
Andrew S
January 30, 2009 at 3:03 pm