‘We need people like Leigh’: The major exhibition demonstrates the continued power and resonance of the artist’s shocking, subversive work
There’s a question looming over the curation of a retrospective on the life and work of Leigh Bowery: where to begin? The iconic countercultural figure was everything from a designer, a performance artist and a television personality to a cinematic collaborator and, at times, something like a living, breathing piece of art himself. “I think that Bowery is associated with club culture and fashion design,” says Fiontan Moran, curator of the Tate Modern’s Leigh Bowery!, a vast journey through the lives and work of its eponymous figure, “but he did projects in a gallery setting, more towards the end of the 80s, early 90s. And I hope we’ve curated the show in such a way so you can get a little bit of a taste of the places where he would show his work.”
This comes through in the immersive, almost transformational nature of the space; wallpaper from films Bowery was in bleed out into the gallery; the gaudy Star Trek wallpaper and chic red dotted walls in sets from Hail the New Puritan (a 1987 film by the artist Charles Atlas, fictionalising a day in the life of Michael Clark, one of Bowery’s frequent collaborators) adorn the walls; and one room – styled after Bowery’s outrageous fashions and founding of the nightclub Taboo, with the door policy “dress as though your life depends on it, or don’t bother” – shows the evolution of Bowery’s fashions on a catwalk.
“I think that you should never have a defined answer to anything,” Moran tells Dazed, “and I think that Leigh provokes a lot of questions, and he didn’t really like giving clear answers.” This show is animated by questions and curiosity rather than offering a single, simplistic answer as to who Bowery was. This is an approach that seems animated by a piece of Taboo lore: notoriously, the person on the door of the club would hold up a hand mirror to the people queueing to enter and ask, “Would you let yourself in?” While Moran admits that this question is bitchy – a classic read – he realised “that it’s also a question for the visitor: would you give yourself permission to be as free as Leigh?”
But freedom isn’t the only feeling brought to life in this retrospective; it’s willing to dive into the discomfort and unease not only provoked by Leigh’s work – including his visceral ‘birthing’ performance art, in which he simulated the birth of Nicola Bateman, who would emerge beneath an oversized Bowery outfit covered in stage blood with sausage links serving as an umbilical cord, and some of his most provocative, almost aggressive designs; a silver, faceless one-piece with the words “A CUNT” emblazoned in block capitals. Moran describes Bowery as an artist who embraced “forms of disgust” and “who is trying to deal with uncomfortable feelings and emotions, and can sometimes take you to places where you’re not quite sure where you are”. Some of this comes from the political context in which Bowery’s work was created; under the shadow of Thatcher’s Britain, Section 28, and the Aids crisis. One of his early signature looks involved adorning his face with oil paint, something Moran says “a lot of people interpreted as a reference to Kaposi sarcoma, which, at the time, was thought to be the first sign that you were HIV positive.”
I think that Leigh provokes a lot of questions, and he didn’t really like giving clear answers
While Bowery is the title figure for this vast retrospective, it would be impossible to present all of his multitudes without including the work of his collaborators. As well as Hail the New Puritan, the show includes portraits of Bowery by artists including Stephen Willats and Lucien Freud. “I like the fact that you can use Leigh to talk about a really dynamic period within British art and culture, but also as a way to move on from the idea of solitary artists as genius figures, and to think about the importance and the great thing that comes out of collaboration and experimentation.”
One of Moran’s favourite discoveries from Bowery’s archive is a piece of ephemera – a “handwritten note, a fake letter he wrote to the editor of a magazine, where he defends the Aids benefit performance where he sprayed his enema onto the front row”. Moran tells me that his fondness for it comes from the fact it offers a rare, different side to the artist; one in which he defends and justifies his practice. As the letter says: “In these conservative times, we need people like Leigh Bowery.” And it still rings true.
Leigh Bowery! will be at Tate Modern until August 31, 2025. Dazed readers can find out how to claim their 2-for-1 tickets here.