Hauser & Wirth Somerset — Attraction in Bruton

Unforgettable. Unmissable. Pipilotti Rist at Hauser and Wirth.

If some of the work shown by Hauser and Wirth has not been to your taste, do not be put off, for the new exhibition, on until 22nd February, contains work by the video artist Pipilotti Rist which I personally found amazing, unforgettable, moving and beautiful.

Her work is well described in the hand-out sheets, so I will not repeat what is there. Turning up to see it with a friend we feared that video art might not inspire for much of the work produced under the label “video art” can, in my limited experience, be a real turn-off, often it seems being slow-moving, boring, technically inept, clunky, and as regards content, vacuous. Not so the work of Pipliotti Rist whose complete mastery of the technicalities of her chosen medium frees her to produce something really special.

Coming into the large, darkened Rhoades Gallery you are confronted by two walls, floor to ceiling, which are alive with the projected video and an accompanying virtuoso soundtrack of resonating, plangent, banjo folk music by Heinz Rohrer. You then have the choice of sitting on a stool on the opposite side, or of flopping down on the floor upon luxuriously thick sheepskins, cushions and rugs. Do the first and you can see the whole range of the projection. Sit on the rugs (which form part of the installation) and you are immersed right into it. Do not worry about reading what it is all about before you go in, but give yourself enough time to sit through the whole streaming twice. (There is no beginning or end, the show is continuous and runs for about thirty minutes – or so it seemed).

As you stagger out stunned and inspired there is a second more peaceful experience for you to enjoy in the Bougeois Gallery where Rist has explored in a different way her reaction to the flora and landscape of Somerset, again moving and...

We visited the Roth Bar for a nice beef roast dinner. The bar/ restaurant staff were friendly and the food was of good quality. We had our small well behaved dog with us and they brought out a blanket for her to sit on. Nice touch. The stars above go towards the bar not the gallery. We didn’t visit the farm shop.

When we were done eating and our 10 year old son (not a running around uncontrollable child) went to look at part of the gallery and he was promptly told to “go and sit with your parents” by one of the stuffy staff that clearly takes her job too seriously. We went in together and we received double looks and side glance from the gallery staff. We then visited the restrooms before leaving and while looking out the large window with my dog, had another lady come running over front the other side of a gallery huffing and puffing to say they we weren’t allowed out there. I said we just looking out and smiled. She then followed me to make sure i didn’t go out the door. While regrouping as a family and getting ready to leave we were told again that we were not allowed out there with our dog even though we had no intention of going out there. We find the gallery staff damn rude and obnoxious. AVOID. Unbeknown to them my wife is a world famous artist, what a shame they didn’t treat us...

Don't usually post written reviews but this is quite possibly the most pretentious, overpriced place I've visited lately. Went for a late breakfast before visiting the gallery and myself and my other half had poached eggs and bacon on toast with a coffee which came to just under £40.00. (wow)Service was adequate but the staff were just thoroughly miserable (hope nobody had died....) I've visited H&W gallery on a number of occasions over the past 5 years and whilst - in the early days at least- (pre COVID) the exhibitions were generally quite interesting, this is no longer the case. H&W's gallery sales strategy appears to be: a) Find a relatively obscure artist who is close to the end of their natural life. B) buy as much of the artists work as physically possible. C) hoard said artwork until artist shuffles off their mortal coil. D) employ Jilly Goulden (or some other literary verbose word murderer) to make up the most contrite, flowery cack one can possibly think of about the artwork. E) sell said artwork (and accompanying farm produce) at exorbitant prices to pretentious people who have more money than sense (or taste). A utterly...