The curtains that veil the artworks of Leonora Carrington at Palazzo Reale's recent retrospective hint at a more complex politics than initially meets the eye. This show, curated by Giulia Ingarao and Tere Arcq, presents a triumph of sorts: over sixty works tracing the artist's trajectory from British Surrealist circles to her self-exile in Mexico, from myth and alchemy to feminist prophecy. But beneath its well-planned layout and inviting atmosphere lies a more nuanced, even precarious, exploration of identity, art, and power.
Carrington's oeuvre defies easy categorization; it is a rich tapestry woven from threads of the surreal, the esoteric, and the feminist. Her paintings - be they 'The Lovers', 'Orplied', or 'Snake bite floripondio' - are not merely objects to be gazed upon but acts of rebellion against the established order. And yet, it is precisely this rebelliousness that risks being domesticated by the very institutions tasked with showcasing her work.
In an era where female Surrealists have become a recurring theme in art exhibitions, the danger lies in tokenism - presenting women artists as curiosities rather than integral members of a broader artistic movement. And so, it is crucial to interrogate not just Carrington's individual work but also the very structures that display her paintings.
The show's scenography often commands attention more than the artworks themselves. Thin curtains and elegantly printed quotations serve as a filter, softening the edges of Carrington's radical vision. This gesture risks transforming her uncontainable force into décor, undermining the urgency and rigor of her thought. By contrast, if we allow herself to burn through the canon itself, unadorned by polite explanations or calculated staging, we may begin to grasp the true significance of her practice.
Ultimately, this retrospective serves as a test of whether recognition is revolution - a question that cannot be answered without critical engagement with the art world's most entrenched power structures. To truly honor Carrington would require a more radical transformation, one that strips away the drapery and allows her darkness to radiate unmediated, without apology or mediation.
For now, as we gaze upon 'The Lovers' - Carrington's 1987 masterpiece of charged, otherworldly systems of exchange - it is clear that this is an artist whose work refuses any form of containment. And yet, the curtain remains in place, veiling the art world's most profound transformations.
Carrington's oeuvre defies easy categorization; it is a rich tapestry woven from threads of the surreal, the esoteric, and the feminist. Her paintings - be they 'The Lovers', 'Orplied', or 'Snake bite floripondio' - are not merely objects to be gazed upon but acts of rebellion against the established order. And yet, it is precisely this rebelliousness that risks being domesticated by the very institutions tasked with showcasing her work.
In an era where female Surrealists have become a recurring theme in art exhibitions, the danger lies in tokenism - presenting women artists as curiosities rather than integral members of a broader artistic movement. And so, it is crucial to interrogate not just Carrington's individual work but also the very structures that display her paintings.
The show's scenography often commands attention more than the artworks themselves. Thin curtains and elegantly printed quotations serve as a filter, softening the edges of Carrington's radical vision. This gesture risks transforming her uncontainable force into décor, undermining the urgency and rigor of her thought. By contrast, if we allow herself to burn through the canon itself, unadorned by polite explanations or calculated staging, we may begin to grasp the true significance of her practice.
Ultimately, this retrospective serves as a test of whether recognition is revolution - a question that cannot be answered without critical engagement with the art world's most entrenched power structures. To truly honor Carrington would require a more radical transformation, one that strips away the drapery and allows her darkness to radiate unmediated, without apology or mediation.
For now, as we gaze upon 'The Lovers' - Carrington's 1987 masterpiece of charged, otherworldly systems of exchange - it is clear that this is an artist whose work refuses any form of containment. And yet, the curtain remains in place, veiling the art world's most profound transformations.
... i mean, think about it, those curtains are literally framing her work, telling you what to look at and how much. it's almost like they're saying "look, we've got this radical artist, but don't worry, she's just fine". and that's a problem because carrington's art is all about questioning the norms and pushing boundaries 
... if we want to truly appreciate her work, we need to let go of those curtains and immerse ourselves in it without filter 
. Can't they just let her artwork speak for itself without some fancy filter or staging? It feels like we're being asked to admire the artist rather than challenge the systems that created her work 
. This show is all about exploring identity, power, and feminism, but what's the point if we're not forced to confront our own biases and privilege? 
Let's strip away those drapes and let Carrington's art shine in all its unapologetic glory 
!
. The show at Palazzo Reale does highlight her unique blend of surrealism and feminism, but what's really important is how that message is conveyed. For me, the thin curtains and quotes might be doing more harm than good - they're softening her radical vision and making it feel more like a curated experience 
. I wish we could see more raw, unmediated Carrington – you know, without all the politeness and explanations 
. That's when we can really appreciate the depth of her art and maybe even spark some real conversations about power structures in the art world 
. I want to see more depth, more fire 
.
but c'mon, 60+ works of art is a lot! shouldn't they just put the artworks on display already? 
and btw, those curtains are kinda cool, like they're trying to be art too 
anywayz, tokenism is real, let's not forget that 
the show's scenography is more attention-grabbing than the actual art... what's up with that? 
! It's like they're trying to tame her wild spirit 
The curtains and quotes are like, totally distracting from Carrington's actual art 
. It's like they're trying to sell me a watered-down version of her revolutionary ideas 
. Not cool, not cool at all 
. What do you think? Are you feeling the vibe or is it just a bunch of hooey? 
If we want to truly appreciate her art, we need to look beyond the surface level and challenge the status quo. It's not just about recognizing her as a pioneering female artist, it's about understanding the impact of her radical vision on the art world. 
No need to overthink it (or put up curtains, lol). Maybe a more balanced approach would be better - show her work as a part of the bigger picture, rather than trying to pin it down in all its complexity. Just my two cents 