Analogue Joy

By Emily Steer

It feels suitable that I visit Peter Doig’s House of Music at the Serpentine on a slow Sunday morning. While the show has variously been compared to a nightclub and a festival, on this autumnal weekend in the middle of Hyde Park, it feels like a languid listening lounge. In one darkened gallery space, bodies are flopped horizontally on almost every available chair, facing a giant wooden 1950s Klangfilm Euronor speaker that emits the crackly but powerful sounds of The Paragon’s 1964 doo-wop cover of ‘Blue Velvet’ and Brazilian protest singer and pop powerhouse Maria Bethânia. While immersive and participatory experiences are buzzwords of today’s gallery world, this is, by contrast, absorbing and peaceful. It allows us to be within a crowd while also falling deep into our own contemplation.   

'a languid listening lounge'

The exhibition is a celebration of music and painting, and it leans into the analogue joy of both. Doig’s paintings are thickly rendered, heady and emotional. They conjure a wild dreamscape that evades the visual clarity of digital image making, revelling in the transformative, imaginative power of paint. The show’s ongoing soundtrack, which is fed by the artist’s extensive record collection and, on Sundays, a revolving series of host DJs, likewise takes pleasure in the scratches and scuffs of vinyl. The show savours the imperfections that characterise analogue modes of creativity, evading the smoothed and perfected sights and sounds of digital culture.  

'Doig’s paintings are thickly rendered, heady and emotional'

Both art forms converge in various ways. The paintings are richly musical, with energetic, sometimes sticky brushstrokes rendered in a rich palette that momentarily soothes or excites the mind: from lime greens to ethereal pale blue washes, rich reds and heavy blacks. The speakers, including an original Western Electric / Bell Labs sound system sourced from derelict UK cinemas by Laurence Passera, take on a sculptural presence in the gallery, their beautifully designed forms stretching towards the ceiling. These would typically have been kept out of sight in movie theatres, and here they are brought into public view as impressive feats of engineering and design. 

Born in Scotland and at different points living in the US, England, Canada and Germany, this particular body of work is inspired by some two decades in Trinidad. His relationship with the Caribbean island comes through in the works, sometimes romanticising from the outside while also becoming embedded in the surrounding land and culture. The landscape blends seamlessly with human activity and interiors, a hazy cluster of memories and imagined spaces conjured by feelings as much as physical reality. 

Maracas (2002-08) is hot and heavy, depicting a giant stack of speakers with a small figure balancing on the side and looking off frame. This surreally scaled scene happens against a backdrop of luscious greenery and is framed by two tall palm trees. The painting is streaked with long watery marks that suggest hot rain, or the feeling that the scene could melt away at any moment. In Painting a Cloud on a Wall (2015) Doig’s dense strokes capture both the intense depth of the azure sea and the lightness of the sky that hangs above. House in the Clouds (2015) creates an ambiguous meeting point between air, land and water, featuring misty, translucent blue and white marks on a crinkled canvas.

While such works have a peaceful expanse to them, others capture the lively bustle of late-night revelry. Musical Equipment Ltd (2019), an intimately scaled painting that sits near the entrance, uses heavy, chaotic marks to bring to life the woozy feel of bar hopping, as figures meander down a jet-black street, the bright yellows, greens and reds of watering hole veneers popping out of the darkness. A ghostly face with pink eyes in the foreground looks as though she is about to bump into the viewer as we navigate this bustling night. The paintings are full of recurring icons, such as the Rastafarian Lion of Judah who paces with mighty paws or lies, crown on his head, by the seafront. The works also reference cultural figures who have significant meaning, such as Emheyo Bahabba, the artist and poet who shared a studio with Doig, and the late singer Mighty Shadow (Winston McGarland Bailey). 

'heavy, chaotic marks bring to life the woozy feel of bar hopping, as figures meander down a jet-black street'

As a whole the show is deeply pleasurable, as it dives into the psychological richness of music, paint and Trinidad itself. The scale constantly pulls in and out, drawing us into tightly packed scenes and then overwhelming with immense forms, whether the physical speakers in three of the rooms or the bold blocks of colour painted on canvas. The space itself becomes a warm cocoon in which to become bathed in sound, moving through the pea green floor-to-ceiling curtains and hexagonal wooden chairs in the homely second space to the flickering shadows and elegant gold frames of the later darkened room. The Serpentine’s curved internal features highlight the architectural forms of the speakers and paintings too. 

'This is soulful art viewing'

House of Music challenges what a gallery experience can be, especially one rooted in traditional painting. Many exhibitions offer a token bench or two — usually leaving viewers bolt upright under the white-cube glare, aware of being watched as much as watching. Such shows don’t feel hugely welcoming. Lying back in one of Doig’s soft chairs in semi-darkness, it feels possible to drift away for moments or hours, tuning into the sounds that pulse through the space or falling into one of his dreamy scenes that pop from the black walls and seem to dance to the rhythm. This is soulful art viewing which embraces a nerdy love of analogue music technology and painting while creating an experience that is ultimately accessible and joyful.