Anish Kapoor

A couple of weeks ago I dropped into the Anish Kapoor exhibition at the Royal Academy in London, the massive shiny collections of balls in the courtyard convinced me to cough up the slightly over priced entrance fee.

That second one was taken by my other half and if you look close enough you can see her taking it and me taking the same shot with my Holga, which no one will see for a few more months. The infinite reflections of the spheres on each other was quite fine, bringing the clouds down to where you could touch them and making everything seem considerably more complex than it was. Like James Joyce.

It wasn’t the best exhibition of his I’ve seen to be honest, and I’ve no reason to not be honest. But it’s saving grace was this hug block of red wax which almost imperceptibly slid through five galleries, shaping itself as it went. It was monstrous, and sticky, and took about an hour to do a length.

It was rather oppressive, slowly filling the room and encroaching on your space. The whole ‘gallery sculpting the art’ metaphor was quite fun I thought.

There was also a cannon which, every 20 minutes, fired a 50lb block of wax at the wall. Couldn’t quite work out why, but was enjoyable in the same way as watching someone open champagne. Except there was nothing to drink after wards.

Probably worth it if you’re close by or have a student card. Or really love wax.

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