It’s not the first time an artist has imagined and pictured a fire at a major building: Coley’s work is a nod in the direction of Ed Ruscha’s painting The Los Angeles County Museum of Art on Fire (1965-68). And while Coley’s work is characteristically ambiguous, loaded with many meanings, it also has a troubling prescience: a press release speaks of living in a time “when cultural institutions are deemed viable targets by terrorist groups such as IS”. Within a couple of weeks of its issue, a man had attacked a patrolling soldier outside the Louvre. “The image of a prominent public building on fire carries a host of troubling associations,” the press release continued. Coley—no stranger to analysing terrorism, having created work based on the trials of the bombers of the Pan Am aeroplane that came down in Lockerbie Scotland in 1988—couldn’t have predicted just how troubling, and how much __more resonant, his work would become.
Nathan Coley sets fire to (a tiny) Tate Modern for London show
It’s not the first time an artist has imagined and pictured a fire at a major building: Coley’s work is a nod in the direction of Ed Ruscha’s painting The Los Angeles County Museum of Art on Fire (1965-68). And while Coley’s work is characteristically ambiguous, loaded with many meanings, it also has a troubling prescience: a press release speaks of living in a time “when cultural institutions are deemed viable targets by terrorist groups such as IS”. Within a couple of weeks of its issue, a man had attacked a patrolling soldier outside the Louvre. “The image of a prominent public building on fire carries a host of troubling associations,” the press release continued. Coley—no stranger to analysing terrorism, having created work based on the trials of the bombers of the Pan Am aeroplane that came down in Lockerbie Scotland in 1988—couldn’t have predicted just how troubling, and how much __more resonant, his work would become.