When Tate Modern opened its doors on 12 May 2000, visitors were greeted by two new Louise Bourgeois commissions: the three ten-metre high towers of I Do, I Undo, I Redo and Maman, a 12m high spider. Situated in the vast Turbine Hall, both the sculptures and the space signalled a new approach to modern art exhibitions. Across four suites of rooms on levels 3 and 5 of Tate Modern visitors could find an equally novel experience in the way the collections were presented. These suites did not present the typical modernist art history with works grouped by art movement in chronological order, such as one would find at the Museum of Modern Art, New York. Instead, each suite was themed and contained multiple forms of grouping, such as single artist rooms or juxtapositions of works by artists of different eras. And yet the displays did not look unfamiliar: artworks were presented at eye level, spaced wide apart in predominantly white-walled rooms with minimal décor and a wash of overhead lighting. In other words, they employed significant elements of the visual language of modernist art exhibitions. This mixture of old and new elements in the exhibitions did not go unnoticed by critics who variously described it as “a spectacular experience … in a context that is actually quite conventional and straightforward”,[1]“disorientating”,[2] and “iconoclastic and radical.”[3]
The artworks displayed at Tate Modern used to be part of the former Tate Gallery at Millbank in London, the site that now houses Tate Britain. The new museum was developed in response to a lack of space, poor visitor facilities and a need for financial plan at Tate Gallery, which was housed on the site of what is now Tate Britain.[4]In 1990 Tate Gallery’s director, Nicholas Serota, had commissioned a masterplan to consider the Gallery’s future. Delivered in July 1992, the report concluded that the size and nature of the Tate Gallery’s collection, and the size of its London site, meant that it should be should be split across two sites with a Tate Gallery of British Art on one site and a Tate Gallery of Modern Art on another.[5]This would necessitate dividing the Gallery’s collection, raising the question of what constituted ‘British’ and what was ‘modern’. Furthermore, a Tate Gallery of Modern Art would be entering a highly competitive field which included the Museum of Modern Art, New York (MoMA), and the Musée National d’Art Moderne at the Pompidou Centre, Paris (MNAM). Both of these were considered to have more extensive collections of modern art than Tate Gallery. In addition, exhibitions of modern art had increasingly been the subject of much critique and discussion by artists and in related academic fields. The future Tate Gallery of Modern Art had to negotiate its position in these intersecting areas. In this article I explore how Tate Gallery’s approach to these issues led to an innovative and pioneering concept for its inaugural exhibitions. I also explore how forgetting to rethink exhibition design made that concept so hard to read.
Trying to escape the white cube
The decision to create a Tate Gallery of Modern Art was made at a time of increasing criticism of the way museums presented modern art. The canonical, modernist, format of presentation, had been developed by MoMA’s first director, Alfred H Barr. It presented a master narrative of modern art history, with masterworks from each movement displayed in a chronological order through a linear sequence of rooms, suggesting a progression through time. The works were hung widely spaced and positioned just below eye level against neutral-coloured walls (often white) in rooms without architectural adornment, in what became known as the ‘white cube’ aesthetic. Installation photographs of MoMA’s 1939 exhibition Art in Our Time show this in practice.[6] This format became the canonical mode of display of modern art by the mid-twentieth century, and still dominated in the 1990s.
However, since the late 1960s this format had increasingly been critiqued. Artists such as Hans Haacke, Marcel Broodthaers and Daniel Buren challenged the role of museums in conferring status on artworks, and questioned their role in framing the meanings of art; such challenges also levelled charges of elitism at museums such as MoMA. Equally, the ‘white cube’ presentations were criticised, particularly by Brian O’Doherty who argued that it made the artist and the viewer subservient to the space.[7]Institutional critiques of art museums continued in the 1980s through the work of artists such as Louise Lawler and Andrea Fraser.[8] Similar critiques continued to emerge in academic discussions of art history: the influence of disciplines such as gender studies, psychoanalysis, sociology, postcolonial studies and queer studies created a ‘new art history’ which gave many and different readings of art and questioned the notion of a master narrative of art history.[9]
In spite of this, the modernist tradition dominated. When MoMA re-opened in 1984 after a four-year building programme to expand its site on West 53rd Street it continued to present the modernist master narrative, and its new displays ended at the 1970s. Furthermore, museums that challenged the modernist format often reverted or were criticised. The Pompidou Centre, which opened in 1977, had been conceived as a response to the charges of elitism and critiques of the white cube. Its mixture of cultural disciplines, including the MNAM collections, a library, meeting spaces and cinemas, was intended to be a way to democratise the museum. The Centre’s galleries were open plan, and although the collection was displayed chronologically visitors could “wander at random, opening up one’s own little historical parenthesis.”[10] Yet by 1985 the Pompidou had lost this open, flexible space and given way to series of rooms, as it was felt that the works of art had become incidental to the space. Similarly, Musée d’Orsay, which opened in 1986, had tried to circumvent a master narrative in a white cube by showing canonical works alongside those by lesser known artists, sculpture and decorative arts in a converted nineteenth century railway station. But critical reaction to its historical contextualisation of the artworks was sometimes hostile and often contradictory: simultaneously applauded as “a stupendous achievement” , condemned as “revisionist”, and brought expressions of disappointment at the lack of social history of art. [11]
Thus Tate Gallery was developing a new museum of modern art against a background where its main competitors still presented a modernist art history, and attempts to introduce new approaches had been met with very mixed reactions. Challenging the white cube would be a challenge. Tate Gallery had already experimented with creating a series of different readings of art history. Shortly after his arrival as director in September 1988, Serota had said he thought of museums “as offering a series of arguments, rather than simply a collection of pictures”[12] and initiated a redisplay of the Gallery titled Past, Present, Future which opened in 1990. Although this was a chronological hang, a series of annual rehangs, called New Displays, changed the artworks to create new juxtapositions of paintings in each room. These allowed different readings, which could be considered as presenting a series of arguments. The question for Tate Gallery was whether, or how, it could extend this approach to an entire museum of modern art.
What is modern?
The starting point for development was a series of four roundtable panel discussions. These canvassed opinions from a variety of positions across the art including Tate Gallery curators, artist-trustees, curators from other museums and galleries, academic art historians, people from other arts organisations and arts critics from the mainstream media. Panellists were asked to discuss “the meanings of modern, modern and British, the geography of the international, [and] ‘fine art’ and / or ‘visual culture’.”[13] They identified MoMA and MNAM as the main competitors to a future Tate Gallery of Modern Art, which led to discussions of the scope of the Tate Gallery’s collection in comparison to those institutions. Like them, the Gallery’s collection was weak in the areas of new media, and was dominated by art from Western countries by white artists. But Tate Gallery’s collection was also comparatively weak in key areas of ‘classic’ modern art; for example it lacked any pre-1940 North American art. If Tate Gallery could not compete with MoMA and MNAM on a like-for-like basis, it had to reconceptualise modern in a way that would allow it to compete on its own terms.
However, although the new museum’s competitors were MoMA and MNAM, it quickly emerged that ‘modern’ needed to be defined in relation to other British institutions. The panels identified the key elements for defining ‘modern’ as period, media and methods of display. The first of these raised the question of when ‘modern’ begins, which led to discussions of Tate Gallery’s collection in relation to that of the National Gallery. Tate Gallery had originally been an annexe of the National Gallery, with a remit that included “modern foreign painting”.[14] ;The two institutions had formally split in 1955 but there had been ongoing tensions between them over the date at which ‘modern’ started; for example, when the National Gallery bought a 1914 Picasso (Fruit Dish, Bottle and Violin), Tate Gallery Trustees felt it was encroaching on the Gallery’s remit.[15]
A similar concern was raised about the division of the Tate Gallery into British and Modern: how would modern and contemporary British art be shared between the two institutions, if at all? The concept of a modern collection was also considered problematic in terms of media; for example, Tate Gallery had never collected photography and thus was missing a significant part of the history of modern art. However, in a separate discussion it was noted that the V&A collected “photography as photography” rather than as art, raising the question of whether the Tate Gallery’s lack of photography helped to distinguish it from other museums.
Modern or modernist?
The panels also considered whether ‘modern’ necessitated a modernist approach to art history. This discussion reflected the tensions experienced by the Pompidou and Musée d’Orsay. Jon Bird, an art historian at Middlesex University, raised the issue of presenting a non-modernist art history. He argued that although “marginal media, for example video art”, may be difficult to show, they should not be neglected: “we must tell other stories.”[16] This led to discussion of whether a modern art history should present a plurality of readings, and if old and new artworks could be exhibited alongside each other. However, some participants urged caution, suggesting that whilst a plurality of readings was fine, relativism should be avoided, that the new museum had a responsibility to be authoritative, not all things to all people. It was also suggested that a non-modernist approach would not fulfil visitors’ expectations. David Elliott, of the Museum of Modern Art, Oxford, argued that “people expect a certain canon and that is presumably what people will support or pay for”[17] and Virginia Button of the Tate Gallery suggested that “people may respond badly to a different style of hang.”[18]
The outcome of the roundtable discussions was to identify the boundaries that formed the Tate Gallery’s ‘modern’ against British institutions, and also highlight tensions between a modernist and non-modernist exhibition concept. Although sometimes contradictory and loosely defined, these discussions enabled the Tate Gallery to develop a way of conceptualising ‘modern’ for a Tate Gallery of Modern Art.
Developing a concept and language for a Tate Gallery of Modern Art
In January 1994 Serota asked Sandy Nairne, Director of Programmes, to oversee the production of a document that would “describe the purpose, policy, programme and presentation” of the Tate Gallery of Modern Art.[19] Although all departments of the Tate Gallery were to be consulted the lead would be taken by the curatorial staff. The resulting brief consolidated the roundtable discussions by producing a concept of ‘modern’ that met the parameters identified by the panels and proposed ways of avoiding some of the obstacles. In doing this the brief created a set of key words and phrases that framed all future discussions of the new museum.
The brief conceptualised ‘modern’ by implicitly acknowledging that creating firm distinctions between the National Gallery, the V&A and the new museum was problematic. Instead it suggested that ‘modern’ should start with Impressionism as “a starting point for an understanding of western art of the twentieth century”.[20] It acknowledged that this would best be served by the collections of the National Gallery and the Tate Gallery of British Art, but proposed that this could be overcome by a series of loans between the museums. Not mentioned in the brief is that this starting point also helped the Gallery overcome one of the legacies of its split from the National Gallery, namely that the Tate must always display those paintings in its collection which had previously been owned by the National.[21] These paintings include Monet’s Water Lilies, which could not be shown in a Tate Gallery of British Art and therefore had to be incorporated into the collection of the modern art museum. The brief also proposed a “regular exchange” of works with the Tate Gallery of British Art to resolve the question of where artworks that were both British and modern would be displayed. Similar loans arrangements with the V&A and other museums were also suggested to overcome weaknesses in areas such as photography, prints and sculpture.
This approach to defining ‘modern’ and developing a modern collection addressed the issues identified by the roundtables. Furthermore, it provided a way to address the question of how the new museum would position itself in relation to MoMA and MNAM. Simply, Tate Gallery had embraced a broad definition of modern that confronted not only weaknesses in its own collection but also those of MoMA and MNAM, thus creating a distinct identity. Importantly, loans could also be used to address the more difficult issue of how to create a non-modernist exhibition. Loans from other museums are usually time limited; however, the Tate Gallery’s recent experience of New Displays led to the suggestion of a series of semi-permanent exhibitions of the collection, which would change every three to four years. As with New Displays such a system would enable a series of different readings over a period of time, thus avoiding the presentation of a master narrative. However, the tensions between a modernist and non-modernist approach to the exhibition concept were still evident. Acknowledging that “the Collection (sic) must now present the history of twentieth century art as a series of histories”[22] the brief nonetheless proposed a “broadly chronological spine”[23] ;displayed across five suites of rooms,[24] ;with rotating displays as adjuncts to these “to highlight alternative stories”.[25] Thus whilst some works might rotate, taken as a whole the concept implied a linear progression akin to a modernist hang. Nonetheless, the brief, aided by the roundtables had produced ways of thinking about ‘modern’ and a Tate Gallery of Modern Art. Developed in response to the contexts of the project, these conceptualisations produced a language for exhibitions at the Tate Gallery of Modern Art, a language that emphasised terms such as histories, loans, rotating displays, chronology, western and non-western art, and no master narrative. It framed the future discussions of the exhibition concept and provided a means for judging whether ideas should be accepted or rejected.
The outline exhibition concept
In 1997 Iwona Blazwick, an independent curator and former head of exhibitions at the Institute of Contemporary Arts, London, and Frances Morris, a curator of modern art at the Tate Gallery, were appointed to the roles of Head of Exhibitions and Head of Displays respectively and were tasked with developing the concept for the inaugural exhibitions.[26] Although Serota and other curators would eventually be consulted on their ideas, Blazwick and Morris had relative autonomy and the freedom to think freely. Morris describes their initial approach as “blue skies thinking … [We thought] here’s the collection, here’s the building, here’s the twentieth century, we’re entering the twenty-first century, what can we do?”[27]
They spent the first few months thinking of “every conceivable way”[28] of presenting modern art. Karl Sabbagh describes Morris’s and Blazwick’s office as being “plastered with yellow Post-it notes, with names of artists, isms, political terms, twentieth-century events, social movements and other reference points”[29] that could be used as the basis for a concept and for grouping exhibits. In March 1998 Morris and Blazwick presented eight possible concepts to Serota and Dawn Austwick, the project director for the Tate Gallery of Modern Art project.[30] They varied greatly; for example Defining Moments in Twentieth Century Art History proposed a single chronological survey of twentieth century art interspersed with “material relating to broader socio-political and cultural shifts e.g. (sic) Paris World Fair”;[31] Geographies proposed a thematic survey based around world cities, and A Zeitgeist of Ideaspresented themes defined by strands of twentieth century philosophy that had an impact on art, such as ontology, epistemology, teleology and praxis.[32] Finally Blazwick and Morris presented the theme titled Subjects of the Twentieth Century, which proposed to create four distinct but overlapping themes that would “[trace the] modern evolution of nineteenth century genres”[33] but that would also link to a twentieth century subject.[34] These themes were: from the nude to the body; from landscape to environment; from still life to real life; from history to society.[35] Morris and Blazwick argued that this arrangement offered flexibility that would enable the Tate Gallery of Modern Art to recontextualise works through rotating displays. Morris explained:
[Y]ou could situate bodies of works in one particular suite of galleries for a year or two years, and then see them in another suite of galleries in a very different context, and therefore over a period of time one could readdress Abstract Expressionism, for example, in terms of its place within society…[36]
Morris was later rather dismissive of the earlier work by the roundtables and the 1994 brief, describing it as “a little bit of mapping out, no real thinking.”[37] Nonetheless the conceptualisations of ‘modern’ and a Tate Gallery of Modern Art produced by that work underpinned the eight ideas and were used to judge their acceptability: they presented a new approach to modern art and they were able to present multiple histories rather than a single master narrative. Only the issue of the Tate Gallery’s collection of historic modern art caused a stumbling block: Geographies and Art & Society in the Twentieth Century were exposed to the weaknesses in the Tate Gallery’s collection that could not be overcome by loans or acquisitions. However, the other ideas could accommodate the Gallery’s collection and enable it to expand into new areas of collecting.
The detailed concept
The concept chosen to form the basis of the inaugural exhibitions was titled Subjects of the Twentieth Century. There is no record of when, how or by whom the final decision was made.[38] In fact, there is very little further record of the development of the concept.[39] However, although Blazwick and Morris worked autonomously, Serota’s ideas would prove to have a strong influence on the details of the final concept.
In 1996 Serota gave the Walter Neurath Memorial Lecture at the National Gallery. Entitled Experience or Interpretation, Serota surveyed approaches to modern art exhibitions during the twentieth century, and raised the question of what would be appropriate for the twenty-first century.[40] He argued that in the 1980s the historical, interpretive hang was frequently replaced by monographic displays in which the works of a single artist were experienced in isolation, but that in his opinion neither of these approaches were appropriate. Instead he suggested an approach that created “different modes and levels of ‘interpretation’ by subtle juxtaposition of ‘experience’.” He advocated the approach of the Hallen für Neue Kunst, Schaffenhausen, Switzerland as an interesting model, in which artists’ works were presented as overlapping clusters implying “merging zones of influence” and leading to unexpected readings. Serota also mentioned Rudi Fuchs’ curation of documenta 7 (Kassel, 1982), in which Fuchs dispersed works by an artist around the exhibition so that works by the same artist were juxtaposed with those of several other artists in a single space. Both of these approaches offer ways of presenting alternative readings of artworks; thus Serota’s talk extended the concept of a non-modernist exhibition discussed in 1994 and provided additional detail to the language of histories and rotating displays.
When Tate Modern opened in 2000 the four themes proposed by Morris and Blazwick had become Still Life / Object / Real Life, and Landscape / Matter / Environment in the level 3 east and west suites respectively, with Nude / Action / Body, and History / Memory / Society in the level 5 east and west suites respectively. There is little record of the detailed development of the exhibition concept or of the decisions taken during its translation from page to exhibition. For example, there is no record of how the theme of each room was decided; however, it is clear that the collection had agency. Morris describes this as occurring in two ways. The first was through the inclusion of the one hundred or so exhibits “that, for a variety of reasons, we thought the public expected and wanted to see.”[41] The second was due to the number of exhibits that Tate Modern was committed to displaying as a condition either of a loan or donation, such as Monet’s Water Lilies. This was clearly considered a restriction by the curators; Morris considered it to be “negotiating down”[42] from the original idea: “it’s like having a party and you’ve got to have your irritating, difficult aunt there.”[43] Some rooms were determined in a more prosaic manner. The room titled Inner Worlds comprised Surrealist paintings and was included in this Landscape / Matter / Environment to represent dreamscapes. However, Morris explains that there is an alternative rationale for its inclusion: the room was allocated to be the venue for patrons’ dining, which meant that all works had to be glazed; the Surrealist paintings were the only group that fulfilled that criterion.[44]
The themes of the four suites were structured through a mixture of themed and monographic groupings of artworks. Each suite was organised into rooms that held either themed displays, such as Looking at Landscape, which contained works by Cézanne, Mondrian and Matisse amongst others, or monographic displays, for example rooms in Still Life / Object / Real Life dedicated to Susan Hiller and Duchamp. The concept followed Serota’s suggestion that a twenty-first century modern art exhibition should use different modes of interpretation through different forms of juxtaposition. It made direct reference to techniques used by curators and institutions that Serota discussed. Thus Fuchs’s approach of juxtaposing works by artists in different locations was evident in the manner in which works by Cezanne were to be placed: alongside works by Sol LeWitt, Carl André and Pablo Picasso (amongst others) in the first room of Still Life / Object / Real Life, and with works by Matisse, Mondrian and Pissarro in the first room of Landscape / Matter / Environment.[45] Another level of interpretation proposed to use the spatial configuration of the suites to provide alternative readings of works by Bruce Nauman and Anthony Caro. These artists’ works were to be displayed in monographic rooms between Nude / Action / Body and History / Memory / Society (Nauman) and Still Life / Object / Real Life and Landscape / Matter / Environment (Caro) (image to follow). The intention here was that visitors entering these rooms would experience the works differently depending on which suite they arrived from, a concept similar to the zones used at the Hallen für Neue Kunst, Schaffenhausen, discussed by Serota.
The concept for Tate Modern’s inaugural exhibitions thus utilised and was framed by the language developed in the early stages of the project, and later developed by reference to practice elsewhere. It demonstrates the relationship between the contexts of production – in this case the creation of a new museum of modern art in a competitive field subject to much critique – the production of language that conceptualises the project in response to those contexts, and the creation of an exhibition concept framed by that language. However, having developed this concept, Tate Modern’s curators had to translate it into a visual language. Converting an exhibition concept (predominantly a series of written documents) into a spatial and visual language is a form of intersemiotic translation. The principles of translation say that in order to render the intention of a source text a translator must be prepared to push the boundaries of language.[46] Furthermore, if a translator is bold enough to reflect not only on the language but also on the methods and conventions of translation, they can produce a text that renders all the nuances of the original.[47] Tate Modern’s curators needed to achieve this in order to convey the intricate and novel concept of the inaugural exhibitions.
The display
Reflecting Serota’s belief that art museums should present arguments, the four themes of Tate Modern’s inaugural exhibitions were expositions: they presented points of commonality or difference in works that are often geographically and / or temporally dislocated. The thematic and monographic groupings gave the concept a structure that meant it could be read in any order. The interconnected nature of the rooms in each suite was suited to the structure of the themes – visitors could move freely through the space choosing their own path, and encountering works in multiple ways. However, developing a visual language to convey the details of that concept was more problematic. The exhibition concept intended to present a series of art histories in a manner very different from the conventional modernist approach; Tate Modern’s curators therefore needed to employ a visual language that conveyed this difference.
Compare two examples of exhibitions that use a modernist visual language: an installation photograph of Art In Our Time at MoMA in 1939, and a room of works by Kurt Schwitters at Tate Gallery in 1985. The first image shows a top-lit room with no ornamentation, displaying sparsely arranged exhibits in a single line at eye-level line with no other elements in view. The second image has the same elements of visual language. The time span of the two images in these images illustrates the longevity of this visual language in exhibitions of modern art. Mieke Bal argues that repetition of a style creates cultural embededness, and so arguably the aesthetic created by Barr has become an index for ‘exhibition of modern art’.[48] This is an important consideration because if the white cube indicates a modernist exhibition, it represents not just a visual style but also the single, chronological master-narrative. Tate Modern therefore needed to adapt its exhibition design in order to clearly indicate and convey a non-modernist text.
The juxtapositions of artworks set out in the exhibition concept went some way to achieving this. In The Naked and The Nude, the first room of the Nude / Action / Body suite, a visitor scanning the north wall from left to right would see works by Hockney, Martini, Helion, Gaudier-Brzeska, Corinth, Shad, Spencer and Picasso.[49] Alternatively, viewing just the north west corner of this room a visitor would see three works spanning Picasso’s career: Nude in a Red Armchair (1932), Girl in a Chemise (1905) and Nude Woman with Necklace (1968) (from left to right). Such an arrangement certainly does not conform to a modernist visual language. However, many other elements did signal ‘modernist’: a sparse, eye level arrangement, lack of ornamental décor, neutral colour scheme and overhead lighting were features of forty eight of the fifty eight rooms in the inaugural exhibitions.[50] This is significant when one considers how these elements might frame a reading of the exhibitions. When visitors first viewed a room from the doorway as they entered, they were not able to see the artworks in detail from a distance and couldn’t discern the unconventional juxtapositions. What they could see were all the elements of a modernist ‘white cube’ aesthetic. In film terms this provides an establishing shot; that is, one that creates anticipation of what is to come. This is problematic if it then frames viewers’ reading and anticipation of the exhibition as they walk into the room.
Not all of the rooms maintained the white cube design. Eleven rooms diverged from a modernist aesthetic. Room 8 of Still Life / Real Life / Object was painted red, a colour often associated with rebellion and therefore supporting the room’s theme of The Subversive Object. The first room of the History / Memory / Society suite, Manifestos, introduced the exhibition through a display of paintings from Surrealists, Futurists, Bauhaus, and Suprematism. Artists associated with each of these movements produced a written manifesto, and reproductions of these were pasted on the walls of the room. In this context they were both exhibits and interpretative devices: historical documents that act as scene-setting devices in which twentieth-century history paintings were presented as having specific aims and ideas, being provocative, and using (or becoming) mass media. The other nine rooms all contained windows, either to the outside world (seven windows on level 3) or views into the turbine hall (two windows on level 5). These views broke with the modernist convention of isolating the art from the outside world. However, it raises the question of how the windows were to be viewed: they were presented in the same way as the art, that is, spaced at a distance from the artworks. The implication was that these views of the city should be considered works of art. While this is certainly a non-modernist element of visual language, it is less clear how it helped to convey the exhibition concept.
Visitors’ understanding of the exhibition concept was therefore dependent on a close reading of the artworks in each room and across rooms and suites. In order to read the intended juxtapositions viewers had to see past the modernist ‘establishing shot’ and look between artworks. However here again the exhibition design was a hindrance. The sparse hang in each room isolated the works from each other in exactly the way that O’Doherty criticised: viewers were still required to “[stagger] into place before every new work that requires his presence”.[51] Whilst the concept required viewers to look between works, the display encouraged isolated readings.
Lessons on languages
Tate Modern’s inaugural exhibitions illustrate the complexities of translating an exhibition concept into a design, especially when trying to break from convention. The curators needed to create two languages: one for the exhibition concept and a visual language capable of conveying that concept via the medium of an exhibition. It took several years to develop the former through a series of consultations with internal and external contributors. However, it is notable that there are no documented discussions on the production of a visual language, which indicates that identifying the visual language of an exhibition may be difficult. For example, in Experience or Interpretation Serota discusses the presentation of modern art in a range of formats from MoMA’s classical modernist hang to the less conventional Museum für Moderne Kunst, Frankfurt. However, his discussion focuses only on the juxtaposition of works; he only fleetingly touches on other aspects of display.
Perhaps one should not be surprised that the curators’ primary concerns were art history and the artworks themselves. However, this raises a question about the insularity of the process of production of these exhibitions. The only recorded instance of discussion of the presentation of works during the development of Tate Modern’s inaugural exhibitions was a survey of artists; they requested top lit, high-ceilinged spaces with “neutral rooms”.[52] There is no record of discussion with people working outside the field who might be able to offer a different perspective on visual language, such as specialist exhibition designers. If a nuanced translation sometimes means rejecting conventional approaches to translation, the development of these exhibitions suggest that exhibition makers may need to look outside of their field to achieve this.
Tate Modern has established itself as an addition to MoMA and MNAM in the field of modern art museums by forging an identity as an organisation that presents an alternative way of thinking about modern art. Its unconventional approach to art history has created an impact on modern art exhibitions.[53] True to its original concept it has rotated its exhibitions to give new readings of the collection, with the first revision in 2006. It has also embraced contemporary art, reflecting further development of its identity and the ambiguity of the term ‘modern’ that was present during the roundtable panels in 1993. However, its alternative presentation of art remains a conceptual one: it is still predominantly a white cube. Perhaps Tate Modern will one day afford itself the opportunity to re-examine the visual language of its exhibitions.
© Rachel Souhami 2025.
Footnotes
[1] Alex Potts comments in Nixon, M. et al. (2001) ‘Round Table: Tate Modern’ October (98), p. 18. Back
[2] Burlington Magazine editorial (2000) ‘The Tates: Structures and Themes’ The Burlington Magazine 142 (1169), p. 480. Back
[3] Jones, J. (2000). ‘Putting Us in the Picture’ The Guardian, 3 February 2000, available online at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2000/feb/03/art.artsfeatures?INTCMP=SRCH (accessed 3 February 2011). Back
[4] In 1992 Tate Gallery owned 4,500 paintings and 1,250 sculptures but could show less than 20% of these at Millbank and only 3% at St Ives and Liverpool combined. In addition, the Millbank site was considered to serve visitors poorly, and had no space in which to host corporate events to attract sponsors. Francis, R. (1992). Masterplan Report: The Tate Needs More Space for Display, July 1992. Archive folder: TG 12/1/1/2, Tate Archive, London. Back
[5]This would not be the first time that the Tate Gallery had developed a new site: Tate Liverpool had opened in 1988 and Tate St Ives had begun development in 1986 and opened in 1993. But both Tate Liverpool and Tate St Ives were designed to present a series of temporary exhibitions drawing on the wider Tate collection and collaborations with other institutions. Back
[6]As Andrew McClellan and Carol Duncan discuss, Barr did not initiate this approach to the presentation of modern art, but he did develop it and standardise it. Duncan, C. (1995) Civilizing Rituals: Inside Public Art Museums. London: Routledge. pp. 103-104; McClellan, A (2008) The Art Museum from Boullée to Bilbao. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. pp. 124-134. See also further discussion in Grunenberg, C. ‘The Modern Art Museum’ in E. Barker (ed.) Contemporary Cultures of Display. New Haven: Yale University Press, pp. 26-49; Staniszewski, M. A. (2001) The Power of Display: A History of Exhibition Installations at the Museum of Modern Art. Boston: MIT Press. Back
[7] O’Doherty, B. (1999) Inside the White Cube: the ideology of the gallery space. Expanded edn. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Back
[8]Fraser, A. (2005) Museum Highlights. The Writings of Andrea Fraser. Boston: MIT Press; Fraser, A. (2005) ‘From the Critique of Institutions to an Institution of Critique’ Artforum International 44 (1); Grunenberg ‘The Modern Art Museum’; Putnam Art and Artifact. Back
[9] The differences in academic discussions of art history and those presented in modern art museums were the subject of a conference in 1999. See Haxthausen (ed.) (2002) The Two Art Histories: The Museum and the University. Andrew McClellan also discusses this in The Art Museum from Boullée to Bilbao. Back
[10]Roud, R. (1977) ‘Richard Roud Reports from Paris on the Huge Extravagant New Palace of Culture’, The Guardian, 1 February 1977, p. 8. Back
[11] All three quotations from Nochlin, L. et al. (1988) ‘The Musée d’Orsay: A Symposium’ Art in America (January), p. 92. Back
[12] Quoted in Spalding, F. (1998) The Tate: A History. London: Tate Gallery Publishing. p. 256. Back
[13] The only people to attend all four panels were Nicholas Serota and Richard Humphreys, Tate Gallery’s head of education and convenor of the panels. The Tate Gallery had three artist trustees – Richard Deacon, Michael Craig Martin and Christopher Le Brun. Three other artists were invited: Bill Woodrow, Tim Hyman and Susan Hiller. There was no representation from the specialist art press. Humphreys, R. (1993). Invitation to Roundtable Discussion from Richard Humphreys to Nicholas Serota, 25 June 1993. Archive folder: TG 12/1/2/1, Tate Archive, London; Kinley, C. (1994). Tate Gallery of Modern Art: First Draft – Working For Our Public / A New Museum For Modern Art, 16 March 1994 Archive folder: TG 12/1/2/2 Tate Archive, London pp. 12-14; Tate Gallery (1993) Roundtable Discussions, 1993. Archive folder: TG 12/1/2/1, Tate Archive, London. Back
[14] Modern foreign paintings entered into the Tate Gallery’s purview in 1916. See Spalding The Tate: A History. p. 42. Back
[15] Spalding The Tate: A History. p. 186. Back
[15] Tate Gallery Roundtable Discussion 2 July 1993, p. 4. Back
[15] Tate Gallery Roundtable Discussion 2 July 1993, p. 3. Back
[18]Tate Gallery Roundtable Discussion 2 July 1993, p. 10. Back
[19] Nairne was also to oversee a similar document for the Tate Gallery of British Art. Serota, N. (1994). Internal Memo from Nicholas Serota to Sandy Nairne: Discussion papers on TG BA/TGMA, 17 January 1994. Archive folder: TG 12/1/2/2, Tate Archive, London. Back
[20] Tate Gallery (1994). A New Museum for Modern Art Discussion Paper: Draft II, April 1994. Archive folder: TG 12/1/2/2, Tate Archive, London Back
[21] Frances Morris, former Head of Displays at Tate Modern, interviewed by Rachel Souhami on 11 November 2007, Tate Modern, London. Back
[22]Tate Gallery A New Museum for Modern Art Discussion Paper: Draft II, p. 8. Back
[23] Tate Gallery A New Museum for Modern Art Discussion Paper: Draft II, p. 8. Back
[24] Although Herzog and de Meuron, the architects who converted Bankside power station into Tate Modern, were not appointed until 1995 and the design was not finalised until the following year, the idea of suites of rooms had been a feature of internal discussions at the Tate Gallery, particularly between Serota and Nairne. Nairne, S. (2012). Personal Communication, 8 March 2012; Sabbagh, K (2000) Power Into Art. London: Allen Lane. pp. 58-59. Back
[25] Tate Gallery A New Museum for Modern Art Discussion Paper: Draft II, p. 8. Back
[26] They were joined by Caro Howell, who was appointed to the education department. Although Howell, Blazwick and Morris were charged with developing the concept, it is notable that Howell’s name does not appear on archive documents and her presence is only briefly noted in Sabbagh’s account of the development of Tate Modern. Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami; Sabbagh Power Into Art. p. 206. Back
[27] Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami. Back
[28] Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami. Back
[29] Sabbagh Power Into Art. p. 207. Back
[30] According to Sabbagh, these ideas had already been presented to other curators at the Tate Gallery; however, there is no clearly identifiable archive record of this. Tate Archive does contain one document that appears to be a collation of seven people’s thoughts on each of the eight themes. Two of the respondents are Tate Gallery curators (Catherine Kinley and Sean Rainbird) but I have not been able to identify the other participants. It is also not clear when the respondents’ opinion was solicited as the document is simply dated “spring 1998.” Similarly, although it is known that Austwick was present there is no record of her reaction to the presentation: there is no record of the discussion in the archive and Sabbagh records only the discussion between Morris, Blazwick and Serota. Sabbagh Power Into Art. pp. 218-224; Tate Gallery (1998). Notes From Consultations – Spring 1998, Archive folder: 66a/05/1A, Tate Archive, London. Back
[31] Tate Gallery (1998). Ideas for the Opening of the Tate Gallery of Modern Art, Archive folder: 66a/05/1A, Tate Archive, London p. 12. Back
[32] Tate Gallery Ideas for the Opening of the Tate Gallery of Modern Art, pp. 13-15.Back
[33] Tate Gallery Ideas for the Opening of the Tate Gallery of Modern Art, p. 2.Back
[34] Sabbagh Power Into Art. p. 222; Tate Gallery Ideas for the Opening of the Tate Gallery of Modern Art. Back
[35] Tate Gallery Ideas for the Opening of the Tate Gallery of Modern Art, p. 2. Back
[36] Quoted in Sabbagh Power Into Art. p. 222. Back
[37] Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami. Back
[37] It certainly wasn’t made by Lars Nittve, who took up post as director of the Tate Gallery of Modern Art in autumn 1998. The concept was presented to Nittve when he arrived, with some trepidation on the part of Morris and Blazwick, who were worried that his lack of involvement in its development might affect his reception of the idea. Nittve admitted that he had “concerns … because there are certain risks associated with doing it in a different way.” However, it is clear that he eventually accepted the concept. Sabbagh Power Into Art. p. 261. Back
[39] It is possible that this is because Morris, Blazwick and Serota felt there was a need for secrecy in order to protect the Tate Gallery’s approach from its competitors. Serota was concerned that other museums were also thinking about re-exhibiting their collections and “we don’t want to see [this idea presented] four months earlier at the Pompidou Centre.” (Quoted in Sabbagh Power Into Art. pp. 223-224.) Morris recalls that for this reason consultations were with “people we could trust” namely artist-trustees, certain academics and other Tate Gallery staff, and it is possible that many of the meetings were informal and no record was taken. See, for example, Sabbagh’s account of a meeting to discuss the content of the Nude/Body theme. Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami; Sabbagh Power Into Art. pp. 266-273. Back
[40] Serota, N (1996) Experience or Interpretation: The Dilemma of Museums of Modern Art. London: Thames & Hudson.
[41] Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami. Back
[42] Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami. Back
[43] Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami. Back
[44] Blazwick, I. and Wilson, S. (eds.) (2000) Tate Modern: The Handbook. London: Tate Gallery Publishing, p. 35; Morris interviewed by Rachel Souhami. Back
[45] Tate Gallery (2000). Landscape / Matter / Environment, Archive folder: TG 12/12/3/16, Tate Archive, London; Tate Gallery (2000). Still Life / Object / Real Life, Archive folder: TG 12/12/3/13, Tate Archive, London. Back
[46] Asad, T. (1986) ‘The Concept of Cultural Translation in British Social Anthropology’ in J. Clifford and C. Geertz (eds.) Writing Culture. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, pp. 141-164; Benjamin, W. (1999) ‘The Task of the Translator’ in H. Arendt (ed.) Illuminations. London: Pimlico, pp. 70-82. Back
[47] Appiah, K. A. (2004) ‘Thick Translation’ in L. Venuti (ed.) The Translation Studies Reader 2nd edn. London: Routledge, pp. 389-401; Hermans, T. (2003) ‘Cross-Cultural Translation Studies As Thick Translation’ Bulletin of SOAS 66 (3), pp. 380-389. Back
[48] Bal, M (1996) ‘The Discourse of the Museum’ in R. Greenberg, B. W. Ferguson, and S. Nairne (eds.) Thinking About Exhibitions. London: Routledge, pp. 201-218. Back
[49] This description is of Naked and The Nude at the time of Tate Modern’s opening. Tate Modern employs a policy of rotating some of the exhibits in its exhibitions so that the specific selections discussed in this article are a snapshot of what are in fact more dynamic entities. Back
[50] Tate Gallery (2000a). History / Memory / Society, Archive folder: TG 12/12/3/15, Tate Archive, London; Tate Gallery (2000b). Nude / Action / Body, Archive folder: TG 12/12/3/14, Tate Archive, London; Tate Gallery (2000c). Plans of Tate Modern Suites, January 2000. Archive folder: 66a/05/1A, Tate Archive, London; Tate Gallery Landscape / Matter / Environment; Tate Gallery Still Life / Object / Real Life. Back
[51] O’Doherty Inside the White Cube: The Ideology of the Gallery Space. p. 39. Back
[52] Tate Gallery (1994). A New Museum for Modern Art Discussion Paper: Draft II, April 1994. Archive folder: TG 12/1/2/2, Tate Archive, London p. 12.Back
[53] In 2000, when MoMA once again closed its Manhattan site for building works, it opened a satellite site in Queens with a series of exhibitions called ModernStarts. These were non-chronological, multimedia installations that borrowed directly from Tate Modern’s approach. However, it was a short-lived experiment and by the time MoMA reopened on West 53rd Street in 2004 its modernist, chronological hang had returned. Back
This research article uses archive material, interviews and secondary sources. References are in footnotes, which I’ve tried to keep to a minimum. Please get in touch if you’d like additional information on sources, or to discuss the article. A fuller version of the article is also available.
Rachel Souhami 