Date: 23 February 2006
take off your joseph beuys hat to old mr kippenberger. anti-romanticism and satiriser of great artist pretensions , this key contemporary thinker died young stayed pretty rimbaud.
The post-mortal roadshow rolls round the globe, and the books on kburger pour out of the publishing houses, and tate modern presents one of its better efforts: jaunty and joyous, he delivers the optimistic goods in all his glorious brushiness, imagery, and objecthood. You see it all looks good, visually stimulating, fun to gaze at, and working with most of the 20th century's goodies of modernism.
What am I saying? I left the show thinking yeh like it, and wasn't detained with the transixion of the extraordinary, I was pleasured by the paintings in his underpants, amused by the bendy lampposts, and detained longest by the case of emphemera (the fascination of pr material, lots of ideas to steal). I missed beauty and greatness. Those old foes of relativists and other progressives.
In the just desserts of dry unappealing meretricious non-art, MK comes close to the big non existent goal of the transcedent but just isn't there, he is an arching signpost pointing somewhere, with freedom perhaps his most appealing trait.