It is fitting that a city devastated by war and with a reputation for peace and reconciliation has created an exhibition that deals with these tough issues.
The Herbert has carved out a role for itself with its collecting in the area of conflict and this temporary exhibition is a natural extension of this specialism.
War is not an easy subject to address through contemporary art and this exhibition does not make for easy viewing. But the Herbert has been bold and thoughtful in its approach, not shying away from the brutality of war nor dodging the big questions about why conflict happens and what its consequences are.
Taking the local context as a starting point the first section is called Blitzed City. A text panel introduces this section using a quote from the city archives to describe the aftermath of one of the worst civilian disasters in the second world war: “There is no town left.”
It goes on to describe how a new verb, Coventrieren, meaning the destruction of a city, entered the German language.
Powerful
The paintings of the bombed-out cathedral are haunting, especially the eerie Interior of Coventry Cathedral by John Piper, an official war artist during the second world war. But the most striking works are the city maps by Matthew Picton.
The three-dimensional maps hang side by side depicting the twinned cities of Coventry and Dresden. The Coventry map is formed of curled strips of the score of Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem; the Dresden map is made from the score of Wagner’s Ring cycle.
Both are charred and burnt and evocatively represent the twin destruction of these cities.
Some of the images are so powerful that it helps that the exhibition is broken into manageable chunks. In Frontline there are challenges to the perception of what being on the frontline in war is like. Raymond Mason’s Belsen Head is displayed on a stark plinth alongside Sunset Series by Thomas Galler.
This sequence of photographs looks at first glance like holiday snaps, complete with palm trees and exotic scenery. But these are shots taken by serving soldiers in war zones and help align the viewer with the combatants’ perspective.
The inclusion of street art such as Napalm by Banksy and Desert Storm by Blek Le Rat help give the exhibition a gritty feel and no doubt account for the number of teenagers in the gallery.
One of the most engaging elements in the show is 5 Soldiers, a video installation by the Rosie Kay Dance Company. Twelve screens show a squad of soldiers doing drill exercises in a deserted aircraft hangar.
They psych themselves up and then let off steam to the background track I’ve Got A Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas. Suddenly their movement and attitude shifts from playful to menacing and the scene becomes one of tension and threat.
It is a powerful piece of art that conveys a real sense of how suppressed violence can rise quickly to the surface.
Artistic statements
Artists often have allegiances to protest movements so it’s no surprise that there is plenty of work in the protest section. This is dominated by the massive wall hangings of KennardPhillipps.
Often the focus of these works is a single object, the Presidential Seal for example, or an event, such as a soldier breaking down a door. The depth is in the smaller detail alongside these large-scale images where cowering civilians hover in the background.
The artistic collaboration of KennardPhillipps was set up in response to the invasion of Iraq. Their iconic photomontage, Photo-Op, with former prime minister Tony Blair taking a picture of himself on his mobile phone in front of a huge conflagration, is on display.
A series of their work, The War You Don’t See (commissioned by campaigning journalist John Pilger) has more photomontage of soldiers and smiling world leaders trampling on the bodies of civilians and children.
It is powerful stuff and exposes the role of those in power in civilian death and of the media in not revealing it. It’s an effective juxtaposition to go from the large-scale hangings to examine the detail of this series.
The next section, Machines of War, sounds as if it’s going to take a more traditional approach to military hardware but this is not just guns and body armour. The subtlety here is in the materials and objects.
Locky Morris’s Gap of Danger is an installation of burnt and decorated bin lids representative of the lids used to warn of police raids in Northern Ireland. Also on display is a traditional Afghan rug. Closer examination of the rich pattern reveals images of tanks and guns woven into the fabric.
Remarkable exhibition
The remaining two sections look at how war shapes borders in Lines of Division; and the legacy of war in Aftermath. Divided societies in the Balkans, the Middle East and Ireland are explored here, in particular the impact on civilian populations.
Aftermath was the least successful section of the exhibition for me, with too much emphasis on hope and not enough on the ongoing consequences of ruptured communities and devastated families.
While the rest of the exhibition exposes the brutality of war, this could have gone a bit further in looking at if and when communities can heal.
One of the consequences of budget cuts is a curtailing of regional programming and a tendency to rely on touring exhibitions, often from national museums. There is a place for this but not at the expense of self-generated shows that use the rich resources of local collections and the creativity of local staff.
The show draws on the Herbert’s collecting in this area and also on neighbouring Wolverhampton Art Gallery’s Northern Ireland collection. The Heritage Lottery Fund’s Collecting Cultures scheme also helped, providing funding to enrich the collection with new acquisitions and also to research, and deepen understanding.
This exhibition is remarkable. It is already earmarked to go to Dresden, a fitting host city for it, but it deserves to tour further in the UK.
The Herbert has carved out a role for itself with its collecting in the area of conflict and this temporary exhibition is a natural extension of this specialism.
War is not an easy subject to address through contemporary art and this exhibition does not make for easy viewing. But the Herbert has been bold and thoughtful in its approach, not shying away from the brutality of war nor dodging the big questions about why conflict happens and what its consequences are.
Taking the local context as a starting point the first section is called Blitzed City. A text panel introduces this section using a quote from the city archives to describe the aftermath of one of the worst civilian disasters in the second world war: “There is no town left.”
It goes on to describe how a new verb, Coventrieren, meaning the destruction of a city, entered the German language.
Powerful
The paintings of the bombed-out cathedral are haunting, especially the eerie Interior of Coventry Cathedral by John Piper, an official war artist during the second world war. But the most striking works are the city maps by Matthew Picton.
The three-dimensional maps hang side by side depicting the twinned cities of Coventry and Dresden. The Coventry map is formed of curled strips of the score of Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem; the Dresden map is made from the score of Wagner’s Ring cycle.
Both are charred and burnt and evocatively represent the twin destruction of these cities.
Some of the images are so powerful that it helps that the exhibition is broken into manageable chunks. In Frontline there are challenges to the perception of what being on the frontline in war is like. Raymond Mason’s Belsen Head is displayed on a stark plinth alongside Sunset Series by Thomas Galler.
This sequence of photographs looks at first glance like holiday snaps, complete with palm trees and exotic scenery. But these are shots taken by serving soldiers in war zones and help align the viewer with the combatants’ perspective.
The inclusion of street art such as Napalm by Banksy and Desert Storm by Blek Le Rat help give the exhibition a gritty feel and no doubt account for the number of teenagers in the gallery.
One of the most engaging elements in the show is 5 Soldiers, a video installation by the Rosie Kay Dance Company. Twelve screens show a squad of soldiers doing drill exercises in a deserted aircraft hangar.
They psych themselves up and then let off steam to the background track I’ve Got A Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas. Suddenly their movement and attitude shifts from playful to menacing and the scene becomes one of tension and threat.
It is a powerful piece of art that conveys a real sense of how suppressed violence can rise quickly to the surface.
Artistic statements
Artists often have allegiances to protest movements so it’s no surprise that there is plenty of work in the protest section. This is dominated by the massive wall hangings of KennardPhillipps.
Often the focus of these works is a single object, the Presidential Seal for example, or an event, such as a soldier breaking down a door. The depth is in the smaller detail alongside these large-scale images where cowering civilians hover in the background.
The artistic collaboration of KennardPhillipps was set up in response to the invasion of Iraq. Their iconic photomontage, Photo-Op, with former prime minister Tony Blair taking a picture of himself on his mobile phone in front of a huge conflagration, is on display.
A series of their work, The War You Don’t See (commissioned by campaigning journalist John Pilger) has more photomontage of soldiers and smiling world leaders trampling on the bodies of civilians and children.
It is powerful stuff and exposes the role of those in power in civilian death and of the media in not revealing it. It’s an effective juxtaposition to go from the large-scale hangings to examine the detail of this series.
The next section, Machines of War, sounds as if it’s going to take a more traditional approach to military hardware but this is not just guns and body armour. The subtlety here is in the materials and objects.
Locky Morris’s Gap of Danger is an installation of burnt and decorated bin lids representative of the lids used to warn of police raids in Northern Ireland. Also on display is a traditional Afghan rug. Closer examination of the rich pattern reveals images of tanks and guns woven into the fabric.
Remarkable exhibition
The remaining two sections look at how war shapes borders in Lines of Division; and the legacy of war in Aftermath. Divided societies in the Balkans, the Middle East and Ireland are explored here, in particular the impact on civilian populations.
Aftermath was the least successful section of the exhibition for me, with too much emphasis on hope and not enough on the ongoing consequences of ruptured communities and devastated families.
While the rest of the exhibition exposes the brutality of war, this could have gone a bit further in looking at if and when communities can heal.
One of the consequences of budget cuts is a curtailing of regional programming and a tendency to rely on touring exhibitions, often from national museums. There is a place for this but not at the expense of self-generated shows that use the rich resources of local collections and the creativity of local staff.
The show draws on the Herbert’s collecting in this area and also on neighbouring Wolverhampton Art Gallery’s Northern Ireland collection. The Heritage Lottery Fund’s Collecting Cultures scheme also helped, providing funding to enrich the collection with new acquisitions and also to research, and deepen understanding.
This exhibition is remarkable. It is already earmarked to go to Dresden, a fitting host city for it, but it deserves to tour further in the UK.
Project data
- Cost £39,500
- Main funder Heritage Lottery Fund
- Acquisitions V&A Purchase Grant Fund; Art Fund; Henry Moore Foundation; Contemporary Art Society
- Partner Wolverhampton Art Gallery
- Co-curator Nicola Gauld (curated jointly with the Herbert)
- Exhibition design in-house
- Graphic design Blind Mice Design
- Exhibition ends 7 July