Carrie Bishop

Copyright Consultant

And Suddenly You Find Yourself Smiling: Fahrelnissa Zeid @ Tate Modern 5th October 2017

I knew nothing about Fahrelnissa Zeid before I went in, but the lure of colour on a grey London day drew me to Tate Modern to check out the exhibition and I’m so glad I went.   Whilst the Giacometti exhibition was drawing the headlines, the Zeid show was nestled in the new part of Tate Modern away from the crowds but, in my view, was the much better show (the Giacometti was OK but I find sculpture exhibitions a bit relentless after a while, though the skinny greyhound sculpture reminded me of1950’s European animation, which is a good thing).

So who the heck is Fahrelnissa Zeid?  Well, she’s dead (plus ca change plus ca meme chose), and a somewhat forgotten figure in European art, though she was well known during the mid-twentieth century when she was at the height of her fame.   It’s the forgotten bit that is the shame because her work is wonderful. She’s typically placed under ‘abstract expressionism’ – a label that can send folk scuttling for a large bottle of red and ibuprofen.  Her work is SO much more than a label slapped onto an artist who enjoyed a splash of colour and shape and that’s the thrilling part.  

Her career is bookmarked by portraiture and ‘landscapes’/life scenes and in the middle, particularly from the mid 1940’s – early 1960’s, an abstract style marked by giant canvasses that she used to hang around her studio to paint, tacked to the walls and curved around corners.  It’s this middle era where she appears to be most well known – with works such as ‘Break of the Atom and Vegetal Life’ (1962), ‘My Hell’ (1951), ‘Basel Carnival’(1953) and ‘The Octupus of Triton’ (1953). Shown in the largest room in the exhibition, these works were not only monumental in scale but glowed with colour and movement. You could definitely see the influence of her Ottoman roots shining through a prism of remembered stained glass windows.  The sunny depiction of Loch Lomond (all soft pinks, blues and yellow mosaic with skipping figures and billowing tents) certainly seemed a warm world away from my hiking days up in the central belt wondering whether a Little Chef would be open for tea and some crisps to hide from the freezing rain, but it was the warmth of her painting, an optimism in the colours, that I loved.

After the large canvasses we were then taken to a smaller room to catch our breath. The paintings still glowed but they were more abstract, less geometric, inviting stories to be imagined. Gazing at ‘Fire’ (before 1964), a smallish work of shades of blue and green, with a smear of burnt orange tucked amongst the shade and scratches, I was lost thinking how many stories could be told about a flickering fire.  This is the kind of abstract art that, with a good storyteller, kids could get into. I also thought of Snufkin and the Moomins  (I think of the Moomins a lot) and wondered whether Tove Jansson might like this image for its atmosphere.  I’d like to think she’d dig it.

In the final room were Zeid’s portraits, painted in the final phase of her life living in Jordan. These were fascinating – all scratched paint surfaces and figures with huge dark eyes and tiny mouths - a little off kilter, a little messed up.  The effect sometimes reminded me of people as birds, with eyelashes like downy feathers, but the portrait of ‘Emir Zeid’ (1967) was fantastically sexy (a little bit of boob, eyes cast down).   Here was an artist painting with character.  

But what was the gift shop like? 

I was chuffed to see Josef Albers’ book on the interaction of Colour available (everyone should have this), and the catalogue was duly purchased, but there was a disappointing selection of post cards.  I love a good exhibition post card. 

Where can I see this?

The exhibition is about to close its doors on Blighty’s shores, but is heading to Berlin next. If you find yourself in that neck of our European woods (and heck, who wouldn’t fancy a trip to Berlin, it’s a wonderful city), then head to the Deutsche Bank Kunsthalle from the 20th October 2017 to be delighted.   

Want to find out more about Fahrelnissa Zeid?

Tate have put together a few key images for you to tickle your fancy:  Four key works by Fahrelnissa Zeid.  Also, yer know, google. 

The Cinematic Orchestra at Somerset House        8 July 2017  

The Cinematic Orchestra have a special place in my heart.  When I first arrived in London a lovely friend handed me a copy of their album 'Everyday' as a welcome gift. Most of my music was packed up at my Mum's and I was in need of some new tunes having played the Foo Fighters CD to death. In the first couple of listens I thought 'this is nice but I need to listen a bit more, some of those chords seem a bit odd, it's a bit jazz'.  Whilst I was familiar with Roni Size, Kind of Blue and some Chet (wasn't everyone in the 90's?), jazz was pretty much an unknown country and my ears needed to adjust to the mood and timings.   By the third listen I was in love - the mood, the emotion, and the AMAZING drummer. 'Everyday' has become one of the albums, alongside Bill Withers Live at Carnegie Hall, that I always give to friends if they don't have them in their collection.  You should know this band. You should know this album.   

It's been 15 years and finally able to see them perform live, at such a beautiful venue, was like coming home.  Luke Flowers, the drummer in question IS incredible - the fluidity of his movements was mesmerising, the time signatures baffling but hypnotic.  What I loved was seeing how the band communicated with one another - all listening intently but joyously to what each other was doing, responsive, playful, focused.  

Performing at Somerset House, on a balmy London Summer evening, with the Pride flag flying above - it couldn't have been a more appropriate venue for such a beautiful band.  Hearing songs which feel as familiar as my heart beat, being played live and played around with was the warmest feeling and one that I'll treasure. The final song before the encore was their newish track 'To Believe'.  Moses Sumney, the vocalist, was transcendent, SUCH a soaring delicate, pleading, hopeful voice - standing half silhouetted in the light it seemed as if he felt every word that he was singing.  The audience was entranced.  

Celeb spot was Professor Green - looking very relaxed and happy. 

The Cinematic Orchestra released this gorgeous track to accompany their new album release -  'To Believe' feat Moses Sumney.  You can listen to the track by clicking on the links (annoying adverts undoubtedly before hand) via youtube or soundcloud