 |
Director, Tate Gallery |
Sir Nicholas Serota is director of a blossoming franchise of British galleries collectively known as Tate, individually known as Tate Britain, Tate Modern, Tate St. Ives and Tate Liverpool. Within each of these is a sophisticated machinery of PR, merchandising and events such as the much discussed Turner Prize. Annually the Turner prize brings up rounds of passionate debate on what art is and what it most certainly is not. It is a glamorous, televised affair that manages to haul much of the country, for at least a moment or two, into the discussion. I suppose the same intention lies behind the development of regional off-shoots of the Tate. He states, "Galleries are special places. They are separated from the world. They allow us to see things in isolation." Sir Nick breaks off baby segments of the Tate rhizome and plants them in far corners, where they take root and eventually provide shelter for the culturally deprived. To many in England "culturally deprived" refers to anyone not living in London. So maybe it is fitting that "Tate in Space" should be the next major project after the development of Tate Modern at the former Bankside station. Quoting their website, "Tate Trustees have been considering for some time how they could find new dimensions to Tate's work. They have therefore determined that the next Tate site should be in space..." Developments so far are impressive; the Tate has an orbiting satellite situated 400km from the earth, a collaboration with University College London. Circling the earth once every hour and a half, a web cam on board allows landlocked visitors to control a view of their own planet. Space architecture projects comprise the next phase. I know that the Tate have fundraising programmes in the United States but have yet to build a Gallery there. That they have chosen to move to outer space where, I presume, such opportunities are few and far between, is very brave indeed. I take pleasure in the fact that they appear to be the first Gallery to have gone interstellar. The other British space projects that I am aware of include a fellow who sent a rocket skyward using white sugar for fuel, and the Association for Autonomous Astronauts. These accomplishments are legacy building ventures; not an approach taken by Sir Nick alone. In the arts there are two basic management styles, one that encourage the preservation of artifacts and the histories of the building in which they are housed, and the histories of those who built those building. And not much else. Then there are those whose management style is to encourage development, at a rapid rate; the acquisition of more and more artifacts, the development of new buildings in which to house them, and then the construction of (sometimes literally...) satellite galleries. For the latter the hard part is satisfying the egos of those who fund your ventures, as well as those who fund your stability. It is easy to botch this, but I don't think he has. At first glance Sir Nick has all the physical appeal of a dried up salamander. But he is one of those dried-up-salamander types with immense sexual appeal and a closet full of Armani. When I worked at the Tate, when it was confined to three locations, a glance or a comment from the top man was something to bring back to the office and tell the girls about. My friend Laura sums him up well, as a Gallery Director who directs as if an artist in the Avant Garde. He celebrates the Artist and the art process through the Turner Prize, and develops his own legacy through effective manipulation of PR, through acquisitions, and through architecture. Like a senior artist in his studio, he directs his workers in the development of a much larger, ongoing work that not only celebrates "new" but tries to define what "new" will be. |
