Double Art History

Think of the best teacher you’ve ever had. Most likely they were witty, passionate and eccentric, able to render the stuffiest of subjects riveting even to the ASBO Neanderthals in the back row. These are the qualities to which Will Gompertz aspires, and precisely those he fails to attain.

As a director at the Tate, his knowledge of art is encyclopaedic, and this year he shares his wisdom by way of an interactive comedy lecture. Despite the notoriously temperamental Powerpoint format, things go smoothly – but ultimately it’s the show’s structure that flops, and the challenge of cramming an era into an hour is bungled, to tedious effect. Preoccupied with rattling through the ‘-ism’s, Gompertz resorts to a cursory narrative of the evolution of modern art, making do with baldly listed facts, redundant props and embarrassingly wacky slides.

He’s a confident performer, but when he scrabbles for amiable charisma he only narrowly dodges self-satisfied condescension. As a result, Gompertz’s interactions—coercing middle-aged women into wearing stupid hats—are met with begrudging submission rather than genuine enthusiasm. He’s no comedian, and his most adventurous joke involves having the class depict a penis in the style of the art movement of their choice (the performance art method would surely end in arrest), and his students simper politely into their sketchpads.

The lecture’s goal is commendable—making the opaque accessible—but it’s unlikely that naysayers will leave the class as converts. It’s a nice idea and an innovative concept, but don’t expect Gompertz to quit his day job anytime soon.

Read Becca Pottinger's review of Double Art History