Pop Life at Tate Modern

Opening the Tate Modern’s long-awaited autumn show, the godfather of pop-art himself, Andy Warhol, looks bemused as ever in his infamous red self-portrait, the same one I have on a postcard on my wall. This fact in itself encompasses the whole point of the exhibition- art equals money. We will buy it and we will love it.

Warhol, never one to shy away from milking the consumers’ pockets, mocks art’s obsession with money and shiny things in Gems, a collection of close-up shots of diamonds given an injection of seedy ’80s disco with UV paint while in Myths, Warhol shamelessly, but perhaps rightfully so, places himself next to iconic figures like Santa, Dracula and Uncle Sam.

But, while perusing the countless photographs of Warhol kissing everyone from Liza to Dali, the synth beats vibrating through the walls become too enticing to ignore. Welcome to Keith Haring’s Pop Shop, complete with disco lights, painted walls and ceilings, ’80s classics on the ghetto blaster and gift shop. Haring’s instantly recognisable bold figures show art at its most accessible, proving why Haring often used art as a political platform in Free South Africa and safe sex campaigns.

Speaking of sex…behind another of those ominous warnings of explicit material that so often leave the viewer disappointed, Jeff Koons Made in Heaven series grants us high resolution access to money-shots of his relationship with his politician/porn-star girlfriend, including the imaginatively titled Glass Dildo. At the centre is Dirty: Jeff On Top, a plastic entanglement of limbs re-enacting the couple’s coital escapades. The cracks in the floor beneath them could emulate the ‘earth-shattering’ reaction their relationship received from the public; that or their predilection towards particularly vigorous lovemaking.

Representing the young British artist movement is Gavin Turk’s life-size Sid Vicious  mimicking Warhol’s cowboy Elvis, and Tracey Emin who demonstrates the cathartic potential of textiles by charting her equally colourful life on one of her famous blankets. Damien Hirst treats us to a live installation of identical twins sat beneath two identical dot prints and False Idol– a calf suspended in blue formaldehyde-like liquid, invoking images of sacred white cows, supported by garish Indian gold casings.

The prize for most awkward sex tape I’ve ever seen goes to Andrea Fraser as she makes the ultimate commitment with a collector to secure a sale. The inadvertent soundtrack of  The Vapour’s Turning Japanese from Takashi Murakami’s room next door did not help. Murakami plays with notions of consumerism with bedazzled Pepsi cans and Trojan condoms and a irritatingly enjoyable film of Kirsten Dunst dancing to the aforementioned song whose name I dare not speak in fear of it infecting my brain again…

Pop Life is a thoroughly enjoyable experience and any exhibition that provokes impromptu dance parties is always a winner. As Warhol said ‘good business is the best art’, and after seeing this fantastic exhibition it’s clear that, with all their beautiful eccentricities, these artists were damn good businessmen.

Pop Life is showing until January 17, 2010, at:

Tate Modern
Bankside
South Bank
SE1 9TG

Tel: 020 7887 8888

Tickets: £12.50 (Concessions: £11)