The hefty dose of information feels necessary, but weighs down the opening of this oddly detached, unsatisfying exhibition. Brazilian-born Lygia Clark, began, like many post-war artists, working her way through Constructivism and later the Neo-Concrete Movement – and the resultant early wall works are lively but dull.
Wandering among these zigzagging greens and geometric monochromes, it’s hard not to gaze longingly at the interactive works scattered across the museum’s sunlit periphery – because what happened in the artist’s mid-career was quite remarkable. Bored of the reverent contemplation of art, she demanded action: smelling, feeling, participating, sweating in full-body costumes.
Art needed to be experienced, and the body was its primary site. In this section, you’re allowed to fiddle with her metal-hinged Bichos (Critters) – but only on the purple carpets; don’t touch the ones on the sacred, white plinths! I did try and conjure up some enthusiasm, closing my eyes as instructed to appreciate the feel of air-filled plastic bags and various balls, but it was strangely tedious.
There are some darker moments; performances like Cannibalism (1969) point to dictatorial repression in Brazil. Overall there’s a sense of something missing – a fundamental disconnect. The genuine psyche of the artist is misplaced in what is essentially a box-ticking exhibition. By the end, she gets increasingly holistic; a final room dedicated to therapeutic devices, designed to reconnect you with pre-verbal life, was the final straw.
- Neue Nationalgalerie, Potsdamer Str. 50, Tiergarten. Through Oct 10, details.
