This exhibition was packed. I had to peer over hundred of heads to get a peek at the advancing train carriage of what.
But what a mass of red wax. It moves slowly through the neo-classical doorway. There are splats of red wax on the surrounding walls – I can’t help but feel sorry for the cleaners.
The interview with Anish Kapoor didn’t impress me as much as his work – You “dont have anything in particular to say to the world”?
THEN WHY ARE YOU AN ARTIST.
If he doesn’t have anything to say to people, then how can he explain the cannon? It seemed to have such a clear message… or maybe that was just me.
I waited for ten minutes in a narrow, crowded waiting area. Heart beating in anticipation. Theatrically, a man in black overalls saunters to the cannon. Slowly, he winds it up, places the can of wax. The clinks of the cannon being set up are avidly listened to by the spectators. Before it, we see a pile of burgandy wax through the dooway. It look like concealed blood.
We begin to wonder what kind of bang it will make, when is he going to
BAM it fires and leaves a hole in my stomach. We all involuntarily cheer at ‘our’ addition to the pile of blood.
To me, the theatrics are proof that Anish Kapoor wanted to draw that reaction out of us. He wanted us to cheer – and then feel strange. And make us question, does everybody deep down enjoy violence?
If this was what most of the spectators felt, then surely Anish has a profound message about our society, and what lies beneath.
