Exhibition: Futurism, Tate Modern, London, until September 20 2009
The largest exhibition of Futurism seen in the United Kingdom since 1972 opened at Tate Modern this week. Coming from The Pompidou Centre in Paris, it brings together many of the works debuted at the Futurists' first, groundbreaking exhibition in Paris in 1912, displaying the same forces of visual dynamism, unprecedented energy and emotional power that so intoxicated and shocked the international art scene at the dawn of the 20th century.
"The scale of this show is quite awe-inspiring," enthuses Curator Matthew Gale, who has assembled a large number of pieces from the original exhibition. "It allows people, for the first time, to fully appreciate the story of a particularly intense movement before the First World War."
Intense is perhaps the one word to sum up the Futurists. Italian writer Filippo Tommaso Marinetti launched the phenomenon in his Futurist Manifesto in 1909. The language he used was knowingly inflammatory and brutally dismissive of the past as he ushered in a new age of originality, focussing on the triumph, beauty and violence of the technological revolution over the outmoded, sedate forces of nature.

Gino Severini, The Hospital Train (1915). Oil on canvas. © Stedelijk Museum
Unsurprisingly, such an impassioned polemic attracted the attention of the Italian avant-garde and in 1910 Marinetti met with the painters Giacomo Balla and Gino Severeni. They joined forces with Umberto Boccioni, Carlo Carra and Luigi Russolo and created the 1910 Manifesto of the Futurist Painters, a declamatory document that fiercely repudiated all artistic traditions. "We are against that spineless worshipping of...old bric-a-brac," they fumed, "against everything which is filthy and worm ridden and corroded by time."
Gale cites the catalytic impact of the Manifesto, repeated in London, Berlin and Brussels and responded to by the likes of Picasso, Braque and Wyndham Lewis. Five of the 11 rooms show Europe-wide reactions to the initial concept, revealing how one movement spawned another.
"The dialogues and rivalries between the Futurists and their contemporaries are fascinating," observes Gale. "By collecting all of these paintings under one roof we are able to demonstrate how the Futurist pioneers influenced Cubism and Orphism in Paris and Vorticism in London."

Christopher Richard Wynne Nevinson, The Arrival (1913). Oil on canvas. © Tate. Presented by the artist's widow, 1956. Picture: Tate Photography
The heart of the exhibition, however, consists of the pieces celebrated in 1912. There are three main spaces on the key themes of Futurism – The Street, States of Mind and Cabaret – running diagonally across the floor.
Work by all the core painters is here, but it is Umberto Boccioni who stands out. His work encapsulates Futurism’s pre-occupation with the vitality and throb of modern city life. The Forces of the Street is a startling depiction of a tram zigzagging frenetically through an urban landscape, the surrounding images dislocated and scattered, independent of one another. The piece is framed by the flickering of electric street lights – a new innovation, along with the breathtaking technologies of speed, that transfixed these painters.
In today’s technology-dependent society it is all too easy to dismiss the excitement these inventions inspired. "We have to remember how thrilling it was for these painters to be witnessing all of these improvements," says Gale. "This show captures the excitement these men felt as they engaged with the modern experience."
Carlo Carra's astonishing painting, What the Tram Told Me, is a case in point. This could be the archetypal futurist image, combining speed and modernity with the grandeur of a Milan railway station. The kaleidoscopic eruption of colour portrays the ultimate thrill of urban experience, and a staggering sense of energy invigorates the night-time scene.

Umberto Boccioni, Unique Forms of Continuity in Space (1913), cast 1972. © Tate. Picture: Tate Photography
Similar multisensory responses to the unrivalled vigour of this new industrialised age are seen in the room on Cabaret. "Born as we are from electricity...how is it possible still to see the human face pink, now that our life has been redoubled?" Marinetti asked in 1910. This was like a call to arms for his followers, and their reactions can be seen here in the vivid yellow, red, green, violet and blue faces jostling for space in Boccioni’s The Laugh, an intoxicating display of fractured colour.
The motif of the dance hall was particularly favoured by Gino Severini, and Gale sees his Dance of The Pan-Pan as one of the highlights. "It looks just as fresh, new and astonishing as it did when it was first shown," he says. "It really was the work that dominated the 1912 exhibition." Standing in front of it makes it obvious why – the gargantuan image of mysterious, blurred figures almost drags the spectator into the action.
Paintings like Boccioni's States of Mind tapped into people’s psychological and emotional states in previously unimaginable ways. Using "lines of force", the piece aims to reveal feelings and impressions experienced over time, divided into three panels – The Farewell, Those Who Go and Those Who Stay. Gale calls it "a brilliant anchor for many of Futurism's major concerns."
The outbreak of the First World War in 1914 gave Marinetti and his contemporaries their ultimate subject, the themes of the past five years finding their apotheosis in the voracious destruction, hospital trains and merciless killing machines. Marinetti’s vehement enthusiasm for war was quite disturbing and, ironically, the mass carnage also signalled the death knell to the movement. "Around this time quarrels broke out between the group," explains Gale. "The war really disguised the fact that this particular brief, uniquely creative period had come to an end."
It is British Artist CRW Nevinson who gives us one of the last and most poignant paintings from this era in the truly apocalyptic A Bursting Shell. Full of angles, spirals curves and triangles, its swirling effect examines the impact of an explosion in a confined space, exposing both the scale and power of the tragedy.
Many of the Futurists were enlisted when Italy entered the war in 1915. Boccioni, who produced only one more painting, was killed. The end of conflict saw the birth of the Return to Order art movement in Europe, leaving Futurism universally rejected. "It had stimulated a convergence of interests and developments with international repercussions by then," says Gale. "It had served its purpose and left an enduring legacy."
Open 10am-6pm Sunday-Thursday (last entry 5.15pm), 10am-10pm Friday and Saturday (last entry 9.15pm). Admission £9.30-£12.20 (free for accompanied children under 12). Call 020 7887 8888 or book online.
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