Martin Creed // What's The Point Of It?
Hayward Gallery 29th January - 27th April
Upon entry I felt as though I was about to be decapitated by the giant rotating ‘Mothers’ sign which was some what of a discomfort and shortly after that I was wondering what was the point of the exhibition, which I guess was entirely the point Martin Creed was trying to make. At the moment I was about to loose interest we were greeted by the giant red and white block print wall accompanied by the perfectly height ordered cacti bringing me right back to the warmth of Morocco. It took almost half an hour to get a snap of the wall and trust me to get any sort of snap is hard work, those guards have stepped up a notch since the sneaky ‘i am texting really close to this picture - i promise’ phone pose. Which never really worked any way but generally guards are lazy or are happy to turn a blind eye but not these, not at all. After that we queued for the longest time for we didn’t know what but half an hour later it turned out to be the queue for the balloon room. It was hilarious, static hair everywhere, blinding me completely, I haven’t smiled like that in days, if your not in to art at all it’s worth the eleven pounds just for this room. After silly, endless amounts of fun it was time to head back to the razor like rain and winds of Southbanks surroundings but not before viewing one last installation on the way out and there it was, a massive erecting cock on Southbanks’ skyline. That for me that’s when Martin Creeds play on wit and humor really fell in to play.
