Tracey Emin’s most recent exhibition at White Cube in Bermondsey was nothing short of innovative. It was masterfully characterised by endless erratic brush strokes, brilliant contrast between cooler hues and vibrant, violent reds and a clear tension between themes of love and loss. The artist guides the viewer through a wide sea of emotions, perfectly striking the balance between informative and open-ended. This enables those observing to choose the degree to which they are involved. It is possible to watch from afar, contemplating Emin’s own experience navigating tricky notions of demise, renewal and the state of limbo that resides between. However, the viewers may well find themselves being drawn in, faced with their own encounters of heartbreak and bereavement. A mix of mediums including painting, sculpture and video, it’s no wonder that White Cube was absolutely packed on the Saturday afternoon that I attended.
A sense of tension is elicited across these works of art, enabled by the vast array of emotions explored. Works including My Dead Body – A Trace Of Life (2024) and the titular I Followed you to the end (2024) incorporate words within the acrylic on canvas paintings, almost as though Emin is depicting a particular narrative. This includes the words: ‘You made me like this. All of you – you – you men that I so insanely loved so much. You are the ones that made me feel so alone. All of you – each of you in your individual way. I – I – I – was at fault to keep loving you. Like a fool I followed love to the end. Like the sad haunted soul that I am, I followed you to the end’ in the latter. A crystal clear message to past lovers, Emin powerfully captures a sense of futility that often permeates the end of relationships: the idea that it was all for nothing, and the uncertainty towards one’s own identity that can remain.
Emin has never been an artist to shy away from intense intimacy, seen in previous works, such as My Bed (1998), which is her bed following a depressive episode, and Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963-1995 (1995), which is a tent with appliquéd names of everybody that she has slept with in any way (not just sexually). However, this exhibition is perhaps one of her most personal to date, furthered only by her lack of preliminarily sketches in favour of painting straight onto the canvas. This is evident throughout the exhibition, as Emin frequently paints over what she has already created, an allegory for the concept of the thin veil between life and death, something that is prevalently navigated.
One of the most striking works in this collection is the vast bronze statue that occupies much of the South Galleries, also titled I Followed you to the end (2024). It depicts the lower anatomy of a person, though the uneven surface and sheer size of the form means that this is not immediately evident. Despite its magnitude, it provides yet another pocket of intimacy, with its sprawled limbs evoking a sense of bodily autonomy, something that the artist is grappling with throughout. This exhibition was created following a diagnosis of aggressive bladder cancer in 2020, and we can see the impact of this across all the artwork, as Emin navigates her own mortality in a truly visceral manner. On being diagnosed with cancer, Emin stated that, “When you’ve had cancer to the level that I had, where you really think you’re probably going to die and you’re looking at months ahead of you to live – and then suddenly everything turns around, it’s like being born again and life starts again and all these really amazing things happen.” This effectively sets the tone for her recent work, and offers insight into her navigation of the idea of rebirth.
Despite instinctive works of art that, at points, convey a feeling of extreme hopelessness, the viewer leaves the exhibition with an unconventional sensation of being uplifted. Emin navigates her own psyche and lived experience with the kind of nuance and sensitivity that one has grown to expect from her. And ultimately, any attendee of this exhibition is left with a newfound appreciation for their surroundings and wellbeing. An honest depiction of inner conflict and turbulence, Emin succeeds in ‘making sense’ of emotions that others spend their entire lives trying to unpick.