Taking advantage of a security guard’s weak moment, we managed to slip under the railings and the crash into Warp’s party at Tate Britain. Our friend was stopped first in the queue at 6.15 because the space was at capacity… and no one would ever go in later.
London at its best! We create the buzz, we do our marketing stuff but we don’t care if thousands are left outside. And don’t tell me that there aren’t work arounds… like splitting the event over the weekend.
But don’t worry if you didn’t make it. Raving in Tate Britain was a joke. It was more like an obituary or memorial for Rave rather than a celebration. The main space had such a small stage and bad acoustics that only the 100 people in the front could really enjoy something. Projections on the walls were very random and the queues to the bar could easily compete with the queues outside.
To be fair though, if you didn’t care to see the dj or listen to the music properly, the whole atmosphere was splendid.
Another big queue for Daniel Lopatin’s (aka Oneohtrix Point Never) sound & light installation ‘Melancholy’ (why?) at least paid off with a seat and very loud music. His composition sounded like a long ka-tching effect that whenever was stopping, lights were spotting on different paintings on the wall. It was oook but nothing remarkable.
Hudson Mo embraced Chapman Bros quirky sculptures with his beats and Rustie had the honour to populate with noise JMW Turner’s rooms.
I presume that the business goal was achieved. The younger generations finally VISITED Tate Britain… and to be honest I would visit it again in the future to see the exhibits without rave. Although the event was disappointing this doesn’t mean that we stopped loving and admiring Warp.