On June 2nd. 2022, BBC posted a news article about Cornelia Parker, a British artist
that uses explosives, steamrollers, and even snake venom in her work. Since the late 1980s,
Parker has produced some of the most arresting works in contemporary art by harnessing.
When the British artist Cornelia Parker was a little girl, she was one of three daughters to
a physically abusive father on a smallholding in Cheshire in the 1960s. She was a child forced
to muck out stables and milk cows instead of having playtime. When she was a child, she
placed coins on nearby railway tracks to watch them violently transform. This seemingly
harmless act was exhilaratingly destructive – and ultimately was where she got her creative
imagination.
Since the late 1980s, Parker has produced some of the most interesting works in
contemporary art by harnessing everything from plastic explosives to the guillotine that chopped off the head of Marie Antoinette.
She said that she is drawn to the interaction of light and dark. “I like the imaginativeness
of shadows. The light amplifies all the instruments, they become more cacophonous, so it’s
almost like you’re getting visual amplification rather than audial. It’s like magnifying everything,”
something that Parker does best. Her robust interventions into the lives of objects and her
determination to squeeze meaning from the props of existence always intensify her subjects.
Tate Britain has assembled nearly 100 of Parker’s sculptures, installations, drawings,
films, and photographs from over three decades of her career. From small drawings made by
sewing through the paper, a fine wire fashioned from melted bullets to the explosive large-scale works that shot Parker to prominence 30 years ago, including the suspended remnants of a garden shed that she persuaded the British Army to help her blow to smithereens in 1991, it’s all here.
When asked how she makes her art, she said, “Everything just sort of weaves
together.,” Sshe told BBC Culture, reflecting on the sight of so much of her life’s creative effort.
. “I’ve always liked nocturnes. The first time I really used lights was in my exploded shed. I
wanted to make a work with a light source. It’s linked to the explosion – the flash – so that’s
where the light first appeared.”
that uses explosives, steamrollers, and even snake venom in her work. Since the late 1980s,
Parker has produced some of the most arresting works in contemporary art by harnessing.
When the British artist Cornelia Parker was a little girl, she was one of three daughters to
a physically abusive father on a smallholding in Cheshire in the 1960s. She was a child forced
to muck out stables and milk cows instead of having playtime. When she was a child, she
placed coins on nearby railway tracks to watch them violently transform. This seemingly
harmless act was exhilaratingly destructive – and ultimately was where she got her creative
imagination.
Since the late 1980s, Parker has produced some of the most interesting works in
contemporary art by harnessing everything from plastic explosives to the guillotine that chopped off the head of Marie Antoinette.
She said that she is drawn to the interaction of light and dark. “I like the imaginativeness
of shadows. The light amplifies all the instruments, they become more cacophonous, so it’s
almost like you’re getting visual amplification rather than audial. It’s like magnifying everything,”
something that Parker does best. Her robust interventions into the lives of objects and her
determination to squeeze meaning from the props of existence always intensify her subjects.
Tate Britain has assembled nearly 100 of Parker’s sculptures, installations, drawings,
films, and photographs from over three decades of her career. From small drawings made by
sewing through the paper, a fine wire fashioned from melted bullets to the explosive large-scale works that shot Parker to prominence 30 years ago, including the suspended remnants of a garden shed that she persuaded the British Army to help her blow to smithereens in 1991, it’s all here.
When asked how she makes her art, she said, “Everything just sort of weaves
together.,” Sshe told BBC Culture, reflecting on the sight of so much of her life’s creative effort.
. “I’ve always liked nocturnes. The first time I really used lights was in my exploded shed. I
wanted to make a work with a light source. It’s linked to the explosion – the flash – so that’s
where the light first appeared.”
