One of the joys of art is that it never fails to spark debate. In that spirit, I always enjoy Jonathan Jones’s reviews, but I must disagree with his particular criticism that Tate has hidden its treasures (Don’t blame Maria Balshaw for Tate’s failings. Its lack of ambition goes much deeper, 12 December). Rothko’s Seagram murals were lent to a landmark exhibition in Paris last year, but they returned to Tate’s walls as soon as they arrived home. The UK’s greatest collection of Picassos is also proudly on display in its entirety at Tate Modern in a show that has already welcomed more than 100,000 visitors.
The much-loved greats – from Dalí to Duchamp, and Hepworth to Hockney – are not “out of view”. They are all there to be enjoyed, side by side with new discoveries, underappreciated gems and emerging talent.
Roland Rudd
Chair, Tate
Jonathan Jones has described Tate Modern’s current installation in the Turbine Hall by Máret Ánne Sara as “feeble”. My first visit to this installation was swift; first viewed from the balcony, it looked lost within the vastness of the Turbine Hall and I didn’t bother to engage with it.
On a subsequent visit, my experience was quite different – entering via the cavernous area of the ramp, the perspective had changed. The installation was, of course, still lost, being surrounded by an immense empty space – but in my opinion that is the point.
Sitting on reindeer skins, listening to subtle recordings of wind, reindeer calls and the beautiful voice of the narrator the Turbine Hall was transformed to an atmospheric, cold and remote wilderness.
It was a brave decision of Tate Modern to commission this installation. Perhaps its decisions are generally braver than we might at first think.
Liz Goddard
Brighton, East Sussex
