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Power into Art
, xix, 332 pages, index at the rear, section of colour photographs at the centre
Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
10 people want to read
About the author
Karl Sabbagh
26 books22 followersKarl Sabbagh, founder and managing director of Skyscraper Publications, has written nearly a dozen books, ranging across topics as diverse as architecture, psychology, history, mathematics, fraud, Victorian boys’ papers, and the Middle East. Some of his books are derived from major television documentary series he produced and directed; others are pieces of original non-fiction for a general readership.
From 2010 to 2012, he was managing director of Hesperus Press, an independent British publisher of minor classics, fiction in translation, and some original non-fiction. While at Hesperus, he acquired the UK rights to The Hundred-Year-Old Man who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared, which has so far sold over 500,000 copies in the UK alone.
Skyscraper's unique programme draws on Karl's extensive experience as both author and publisher.
From 2010 to 2012, he was managing director of Hesperus Press, an independent British publisher of minor classics, fiction in translation, and some original non-fiction. While at Hesperus, he acquired the UK rights to The Hundred-Year-Old Man who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared, which has so far sold over 500,000 copies in the UK alone.
Skyscraper's unique programme draws on Karl's extensive experience as both author and publisher.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
December 24, 2014
How do you turn a ‘cathedral of power’, functionally built and hidden in plain sight on London’s previously neglected Bankside, into a ‘cathedral of art’, able to showcase the finest modern art and attract millions of people a year.
The answer to this question forms the narrative arc of Power into Art as the author Karl Sabbagh tracks the transformation of Giles Gilbert Scott’s Bankside power station into Tate Modern. The decision to redevelop an existing building was the cause of outrage in some quarters of the cultural commentariat. Surely it was better, they argued, to build anew a contemporary building to fit the fashions a la mode.
Thankfully, the architectural and curatorial opportunities offered by such a vast and unusual space – and the sky high costs of new build in central London – meant Nicholas Serota and the Tate’s trustees focused on the disused power station.
The approach adopted by the architects Herzog and de Meuron further honoured the existing building, which the former describes as ‘very delicate…To lots of people it has an austere or even brutal expression, but if one really works with the building, with the skin, with the elevations, one recognises that it is very delicately done’.
Sabbagh recounts that process in remarkable detail. The telling is full of moments of high tension, such as the public selection process for the architects, and little gems, such as the revelation that Herzog and de Meuron had to fight hard to retain the Turbine Hall ramp as a key feature. Can you imagine Tate Modern without its ramp? Without Eliasson’s weather project, Bourgeois’ spiders or Salcedo’s “Shibboleth”? The latter, the most fascinating and democratic work of art I have ever encountered.
The level of detail does sometime slow the pace. Power into Art at times reminded me of ‘Hell’s Gorge: The Battle to Build the Panama’s Canal’. The author’s proficiency at conveying the difficulty and complexity of the task makes some chapters a bit of a slog in themselves.
That small caveat aside, Power into Art is a fascinating account of how a very small, growing into a very large, group of arts and crafts men and women turned a defunct cathedral of power into a glowing cathedral of art.
The answer to this question forms the narrative arc of Power into Art as the author Karl Sabbagh tracks the transformation of Giles Gilbert Scott’s Bankside power station into Tate Modern. The decision to redevelop an existing building was the cause of outrage in some quarters of the cultural commentariat. Surely it was better, they argued, to build anew a contemporary building to fit the fashions a la mode.
Thankfully, the architectural and curatorial opportunities offered by such a vast and unusual space – and the sky high costs of new build in central London – meant Nicholas Serota and the Tate’s trustees focused on the disused power station.
The approach adopted by the architects Herzog and de Meuron further honoured the existing building, which the former describes as ‘very delicate…To lots of people it has an austere or even brutal expression, but if one really works with the building, with the skin, with the elevations, one recognises that it is very delicately done’.
Sabbagh recounts that process in remarkable detail. The telling is full of moments of high tension, such as the public selection process for the architects, and little gems, such as the revelation that Herzog and de Meuron had to fight hard to retain the Turbine Hall ramp as a key feature. Can you imagine Tate Modern without its ramp? Without Eliasson’s weather project, Bourgeois’ spiders or Salcedo’s “Shibboleth”? The latter, the most fascinating and democratic work of art I have ever encountered.
The level of detail does sometime slow the pace. Power into Art at times reminded me of ‘Hell’s Gorge: The Battle to Build the Panama’s Canal’. The author’s proficiency at conveying the difficulty and complexity of the task makes some chapters a bit of a slog in themselves.
That small caveat aside, Power into Art is a fascinating account of how a very small, growing into a very large, group of arts and crafts men and women turned a defunct cathedral of power into a glowing cathedral of art.
Displaying 1 of 1 review