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From: art reviews
Category: Art
Date: 07 June 2005
Stepping in here after Maloney, is a good way of pricking the bubble of enthusiam you may have blown in the sunny clarity of Timothy Taylor.
At first the energy keeps you going, oh there's a Rauschenberg, there a Baselitz, quite nice too. The Hockneys are ok, not as good as before, a room full of some token hipsters, the bad rooms a bad unfunny joke on the people who support the RA, grisseled grannies and grampies with obscene bad taste, and after a while your lightness has been deafened by the screams and shouts of walls of failure, and you leave with your hope extinguished.
(and the chirpy wall info should be preserved as a lesson that writing can be worse than pompous nonsense of the Tate)
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