It looks like a giant, reptilian caterpillar curled up on Rumsey Playfield -with gleaming white walls and retro-cool flourescent accents (mauve, of course) to complete the effect the Chanel Mobile Art Exhibit looks like nothing so much as Star Trek as imagined by IKEA. The serpentine structure also has its own contingent of Oompa-loompas, an entire squadron of attractive, bored looking young men and women that wear uniforms straight from a badly dubbed, sixties sci-fi flick.
Upon entering I was presented with earphones and a stylishly minute MP3 device that would direct me on my journey. The narration was helpful, after I got over the fact that I expected the guide to break into “Broken English” – if the women’s voice had possessed any more gravel it could have been used as a glass packed muffler. (Obscure Marianne Faithful reference.)
The exhibit itself was interesting at times and visually stunning once or twice, but the audio guide was just a little too consciously precocious – at times she sounded like a late night FM disc jockey from the days of AOR. That, and the fact that she gave absolutely no information about the artist responsible for each piece, which was somewhat puzzling. She seemed to be more intent on telling me how and what to feel.
In other words all that was missing was a continuous loop of “Thus Spake Zarathustra” to make sure that we understood how really important it all was. The fact is that while it was pretty interesting, even compelling at times, it was really much ado about not so much.
Giant handbag not withstanding.