In the review of the Frieze Art Fair 2016, one of New York’s most important annual art events, The New York Times used the term Circus to capture the growing entertainment component of the fair. The Wall Street Journal headlined its article on Creed “The Madcap Art of Martin Creed” and advised that he “seems to be vying for the title of the village idiot of the art world” and the press folder for the Creed show uses the title “Subtle No, Awesome Yes”. What the review of Creed’s comprehensive Back Door show at New York’s Park Armory space covering twenty years of his career suggests is a questioning of what art is supposed to be, the boundaries of art forms, and the viewers’ perception of art; an observation that can also be applied to elements of the Frieze fair.  It amounts to wondering about art and absurdity and in Creed’s words about the “art world as a field where one can engage in stupidity” Since Martin Creed won the prestigious Turner Prize for his experimental art in 2001 and has been having exhibitions in virtually all prestigious international art venues, his work, though beset by controversies, has to be taken seriously.

Provided with all of the first floor space of the huge Park Avenue Armory, including the large drill hall, the New York Creed show held from June 8 – August 7   is the largest survey of Creed’s work. It involves installations and performances, videos and sculptures, work commissioned for the drill hall, paintings, minimalistic art work, drawings, to mention but a few modes of Creed’s expression. Presenting his work in the press preview Martin Creed refrained from articulating the meaning of his show preferring not to prejudice the perception of the viewers. Rather, he was offered two halting songs on a guitar held together with duct tape honoring his mother. 

A group of five musicians was walking the ground floors in a performance arranged by Creed for the show. The overall impact of the exhibition is art work stripped down to the essentials removing whatever is not needed, conveying the raw and the crude confronting the viewer with an unparalleled directness. The impact is puzzling, questioning, and for some offensive. The world Creed presents transcends what is taken for granted or obfuscated and it is up to the viewer to uncover the underlying significance. As a whole the show is certainly complex, touching virtually all levels of experiences with some elements entrenched in our consciousness after leaving the show, to wit sculptural interventions enabled by the structure of the Amory.

There are more than 100 art pieces by Creed distributed throughout the vestibules, corridors, parlor, and four rooms on the first floor of the Armory, the drill room and adjacent spaces, taking days to view them carefully.  The works convey a playful absurdity. Throughout the show the audience confronts the opening and closing of doors and curtains, lights turning on and off and spaces which are transformed by alienated presentations.  Passage through a roomful of large white balloons conveys a sensory playful experience, in another room a large piano becomes a percussion instrument by slamming consistently, not playing any music. In other rooms a contrast with the military décor is established by inserting inside and outside the vitrines minimalistic paper works consisting of  crumpled balls of paper and sheets inscribed with one liners. Other rooms feature stacks of chairs, tables, drawing and paintings, as well as staples of plywood and an assemblage of cacti, to name but a few.

However what was most striking, and depending on the viewer, disconcerting and disorienting was the center piece and the short videos shown in adjacent separate stalls.  The Back Door, Shutters Opening and Closing, was commissioned by the Armory and transformed the barren drill hall into a giant viewing chamber featuring a large video screen in the front and the metal gate for the loading platform in the back of the hall  opening and closing towards Lexington Avenue.. The unexpected visual impact of a clear seemingly magnified moving image of the passing traffic and persons unaware of being watched by voyeurs from the drill room was stunning. Between each backdoor sequence the large video screen showed in 2 minute segments slowly enlarging women’s faces with food protruding from their mouth.  In the apparently less popular section of nine stalls somehow hidden from the drill space brief videos were presented in continuous loops. Videos covered rather graphically, several people vomiting, a woman defecating in a floor, a penis with a slowly ascending and descending erection, people trying to pass in various helpless poses a street to mention some themes. For Creed these controversial videos document what the voyeur does not want to watch and enjoy openly that is basic human features like bodily functions and handicapped movements.

Exposure to  Martin Creed’s work was a surprising but most enjoyable experience, opening new ways of seeing.

Claus Mueller,  filmexchange@gmail.com