Oscar Murillo: The Flooded Garden review – my inner Pollock could not be contained

Oscar Murillo: The Flooded Garden review – my inner Pollock could not be contained

Tate Modern, London
Is it love or just a summer fling? Oscar Murillo has invited the public to add their own paint to his canvas – but I wouldn’t be tempted. Would I?

Look at me – I’m Jackson Pollock! Doing action painting in the Tate Turbine Hall!

I usually dread interactive art. I prefer to look at art silently, passively and, assuming it’s good enough, to absorb its nuances and meanings slowly. Why do some artists insist on making us doers rather than observers? Queuing with my family to enter the oval arena that Oscar Murillo has set up for us, the masses, to paint his latest work, I even started questioning the financial side. Murillo is a successful artist who will also open a doubtless lucrative show with Gagosian this summer. And he expects people, especially children, to paint his latest hit for free? Seeing his own fussy works on display in Tate’s Tanks, I suppose he needs all the help he can get.

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