Stuck for something to do over the weekend? Why not catch this exhibition before it closes...
At its best, comedy is lean and to the point.
When “Laughing in a Foreign Language” was curated, this fact was forgotten. The exhibition has great intentions, as its tagline, “30 artists explore humour from around the world”, suggests. An inspiring precept: but the task of investigating this theme fails. Like a bad joke, the excess detail - or in this case, the excess art - distracts from the punchline.
For there is a punchline. Amongst the cacophony of noise from installations, there are some fantastic pieces. Olaf Breuning’s video Home2 mocks the western tourist’s attempt to connect with the world on their travels. The naďve subject of the installation hands out dollars to poor Ghanaian kids and talks ecstatically about getting away from the tourist track by hanging out with locals, only making a fool of himself in the process. It makes its point well, and big laughs spill out from Home2's section.
Taiyo Kimura’s piece “Untie me (stool for a guard)” is a brilliant visual pun. Made to resemble a curled up man, it doubles up as a chair. It also reads out stops from the Circle Line, adding to the artist’s ability to twist the mundane.
Julain Rosefelt’s “Clown” is also wonderful: while the clown who takes centre stage in this video installation may not be telling jokes, his endless journey underlines the melancholy that lies at the centre of so much humour. The clown climbs and wanders through a rainforest, with no apparent aim, and it is impossible to avert one’s gaze.
If the curators of this exhibition had stuck to a small number of such pieces, “Laughing in a Foreign Language” could be an engrossing dip into art and comedy. Unfortunately, it tries too hard: by the end of the exhibition the viewer has encountered so many weak puns and political statements that overload is inevitable. The hung up old clown boots, a children’s joke machine that produces adult gags when prompted (pictured) and a parasitic web of politicans’ heads are such examples.
But pop down for a gander anyway. After all, every year punters sample innumerable comedy gigs in the hope of finding that humour high. In the same way, the weak elements of this exhibition are worth bearing. The task of seeking out the best pieces makes them all the more satisfying once found.
Laughing in a Foreign Language at the Hayward Gallery, London; until April 13th
Holly Falconer
Photo: Doug Fishbone, Joke Master Jr (2006), © the artist 2006, with special thanks to Alexi Blinov and Jacki Martling
