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EXHIBITIONISM
Saatchi Gaery
until September 4th, 2016
Graduates of the LSE are, on average, the
highest paid in the country. This show
doesn’t reveal how much of that average
is made up by Sir Mick Jagger, but he
must be one of their most successful
alumni. Because of his business nous and
talent for spotting the right people for the
job, the Stones were a well organised
outfit who got better deals than the
Beatles. Their shows were brand leaders:
their PR was highly effective, and then
later in the Seventies their stuck-outtongue
logo encapsulated it all. It’s no
surprise that they should organise a good
show, an exercise in corporate
mythmaking which may just be a copy of
the highly successful David Bowie
memorabilia exhibition currently on its
world tour.
The length and layout of the exhibition
is just right. There are five hundred
things to look at: a computer display of
miles travelled and concerts sung, a
mock-up bedsit, posters of early gigs,
voiceovers from those who were there,
guitars, a mock-up recording studio, bits
of tour film, art inspired by Jagger
himself, costumes, a recent concert in 3D,
and battered old vinyl covers. It’s an
object lesson in exhibition craft: the
labels are clear, and the narrative is
straightforward. It’s also expensive, but
what else do you expect from the Stones?
The V&A, who put on the Bowie show,
could learn ‘how to do it’ for their own
in-house work.
The question is: why go? The music is
out there already. The memorabilia is
great if that’s your thing. Of course the
Stones are a cultural phenomenon; and
even if you have little interest in the
music, it’s worth pondering how Jagger
was so charismatic and why so many
people have the Stones as the soundtrack
of their lives. But the show doesn’t help
as much as it might with that kind of
pondering. It’s really just there to present
the corporate image.
And, of course, to sell stuff. The onceyoung
Urban Bohemians have licensed
their name and logo to Pringle –
a company noted for golf sweaters –
and to Turnbull & Asser, everybody’s
favourite Jermyn Street shirtmakers. The
shop says it all: despite the acreage of
space, there’s actually not much to
it. Pop commentators say that the
same goes for the Stones’ music. They say
it’s got louder, and more theatrical, but
hasn’t changed much over the
years. That’s unfair: there was a flirtation
with Indian mysticism in the late
Sixties, which they had the good sense
to ditch. And the most – perhaps the only
– heart-warming footage is of the young
band in Chess Studios performing
alongside some of their Blues heroes.
Jagger’s peculiar stage persona begins to
make a lot more sense when you
see it growing out of a white-boy homage
to the performance style of Blues singers.
This is corporate history, and as such it
is partial. It describes, rather than
explores, the way in which the point of
the Stones – their Unique Selling Point –
was not just the music, but the way they
led the counter-culture: something made
possible by the band’s wealth and physical
stamina. The Stones poked out their
tongue on behalf of people who needed
to kick over the traces once in
a while. Jagger is on record as saying that
he hoped that the Stones would really
break the mould of society. They didn’t
in the sense that wealthy Bohos are
still thin on the ground. They did in
the sense that they were standard-bearers
for the rejection of many traditional
values; and they helped create a modern
culture where the rich can behave badly
without showing any sort of noblesse
oblige on the way. In that they were
similar to their contemporary Sir
Richard Branson, whose ‘Virgin’ brand
got off the ground through tax evasion,
but potently mocked the Mother of God.
Good PR and a cheeky feel of the zeitgeist
saw these Sixties and Seventies moguls
through.
The good PR means that despite the
teasing posters, the part of the band’s
history which got them into serious
trouble is not touched on much.
‘Exhibitionism’ mentions, but doesn’t
illustrate, the sex and drugs that were so
much part of the band’s life and appeal.
There is some video footage which
half-shows something very naughty,
but the ruthless and destructive side
of the band doesn’t get much of a look in.
After all, this is a celebration for the
late middle-aged – the age-demographic
of attendees is not much different from
most London shows. In his voiceovers,
however, Sir Mick comes across as nicely
spoken and highly intelligent. Maybe
there’s a line in homecare which he might
develop for his fans.
Owen Higgs
June 2016 ■ newdirections ■ 23