As I enter the main hall of Michael Craig-Martin’s exhibition at London’s Royal Academy, I spot a little girl sitting mesmerised in front of Michael Craig-Martin’s oversized, vividly coloured pencil sharpener, while her parents debate its meaning. The father dismisses it as ‘outdated pop art’, but the mother argues it explores how everyday objects change meaning over time.
This scene captures the essence of Michael Craig-Martin’s retrospective, once referred to as “The most hated man in British art.” Running until 10 December 2024, the exhibition invites visitors to rethink the ordinary objects of modern life and by association our understanding of the latter and art’s input.
The exhibition is organised chronologically, beginning with his conceptual minimalist works from the early 70s such as On the Table, four metal buckets suspended on a tabletop by ropes through ceiling pulleys, or An Oak Tree, an artist’s dialogue with a sceptic, a piece that resonates with today’s identification movements.
This perfect conceptual piece drew him back to drawing and inspired his transition into an experimental phase, which is shown in three different rooms showcasing his transition to what will become his iconic ‘style’.
From there, you are immersed in Craig-Martin’s brightly coloured world, enhanced by the colourful walls of the RA’s galleries.
The artist’s openness to change and endless curiosity are evident throughout the exhibition, illustrating his constant reinvention of form and concept.
His fascination with the ‘perfection’ of mass-produced objects led him to use tape, as Ethan, an art student at Goldsmiths College, explains – Craig-Martin taught there himself from 1973 to 1988 and counted Damien Hirst, Julian Opie, Ian Davenport and Fiona Rae among his students.
Craig-Martin began using tape in the late 1970s for his wall drawings of ordinary objects he used in his work, such as books and stepladders. He wanted these drawings to be ready-made and deliberately avoided giving them a personal or expressive character. Since the mid-90s, most of his work has been digital, which suits his way of thinking and working perfectly. He himself has admitted that almost everything he has done over the last 30 years would have been impossible without a computer.
The exhibition then moves on to the iconic large-scale paintings for which he is best known, depicting everyday objects in vivid and unlikely colours.
Known for his vibrant colours, inspired by the Mexican modernist architect Luis Barragán, Craig-Martin began exploring objects through a more subdued palette before adopting bold hues.
It took him years to ‘overcome his fear of colour’. His aim is not simply to reproduce pop art, but to show how colour and line can evoke memories and personal associations, encouraging viewers to see objects in a new light.
Visitors’ opinions vary. Some describe the experience as an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ adventure, while others, like a Dubai-based interior designer, criticise it as an imitation of Warhol.
His ‘words associated with objects’ phase, reminiscent of Milton Glaser’s style, is also on show, pairing seemingly random words with painted objects, adding layers of interpretation, while his playful revisitation of old masterpieces such as Seurat’s Les Baigneuses or Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe with bold, playful colours offers a humorous look at iconic works of art.
‘What I’ve realised is that colour can change the emphasis. It allows me to make something visible in a work that people don’t always recognise. In my reinterpretations of old masters, it is colour that allows me to shift the focus,’ explains the master himself in an interview with Charlotte Mullins.
Visitor reactions vary. Some describe the exhibition as an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ adventure, while others, like a Dubai-based designer, criticise it as a Warhol imitation.
Recurring objects, like the bucket, appear throughout the show, symbolising the artist’s exploration of how ordinary items evolve over time. His work challenges viewers to question how we perceive these objects, whether through his iconic paintings or his immersive digital installation Cosmos, a 30-minute projection on four walls that highlights both the obsolescence and overwhelming abundance of consumer goods.
As visitors exit Cosmos, an elderly couple reflects on how the exhibition critiques consumer culture by showcasing the impermanence of material things. Craig-Martin’s own words echo this sentiment: ‘The meaning of objects changes over time,’ he says, adding that just as ancient cultures are understood through the objects they left behind, so too will our everyday items, some of which might prompt questions like ‘What was that?’ in the future.
As I leave the premises, through the Royal Academy’s courtyard, I’m surrounded by Craig-Martin’s giant yet delicate sculptures—outlines of an umbrella, a shoe, and headphones. Among them, I spot the little girl from earlier, now skipping through the sculptures with an ice cream in hand. Instantly, I picture the ice cream in screaming colours, just as Craig-Martin might, a playful reminder of the way he asks us to view the world. His words echo in my mind:
‘Understanding art is like having a sense of humour – if you don’t have it, no explanation will make you laugh.’
If you want more of Craig-Martin’s work, the Cristea Roberts Gallery is hosting Michael Craig-Martin: An Anthology, his first solo exhibition dedicated to nearly thirty years of editions.
This exhibition runs from October 25 until November 23.
