Sophie Haigney

I didn’t expect to be so moved – galleries reopen

The artworks I saw by Isa Genzken and Paul Klee spoke so directly to me, about illness and stasis and upheaval

Installation view of 'Isa Genzken. Window' at Hauser & Wirth, London. Image: © Isa Genzken / Licensed by Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York Courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth and Galerie Buchholz Cologne / Berlin / New York. Photo: Alex Delfanne 
issue 27 June 2020

I’m in Mayfair and I’m boarding an airplane. Or rather, I’m boarding an approximation of an airplane. In the centre of Hauser & Wirth, there are airplane seats, organised into a formation that resembles a section of economy, and dislocated windows, hung on the walls where paintings might normally be. The seatbacks are stuffed, and a spring/summer 2012 edition of Sky Shop magazine is splayed across one of the seats. We are frozen in time and space.

Like most of us in recent months, this plane — an installation by German artist Isa Genzken — isn’t going anywhere. It remains perpetually rooted. Its windows open on to white walls. The work — ‘Untitled’ (2018), the centrepiece of a larger exhibition called Window — connects aircraft space with the sterilised placelessness of a white-cube art gallery, spaces that have always been highly controlled but perhaps never more so than now. Since galleries reopened in London last week, appointments must be booked in advance.

Get Britain's best politics newsletters

Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Comments

Join the debate for just £1 a month

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.

Already a subscriber? Log in