In the quest to immortalize the harrowing realities of modern warfare, the Imperial War Museum, established in 1917 as a testament to the horrors of war, faces the challenge of encapsulating Britain's evolving narrative. A generous contribution from Russian-British magnate Leonard Blavatnik breathes life into the museum's new Blavatnik Art, Film, and Photography Galleries, an ambitious addition narrating the visual odyssey of war through five thematic spaces, spanning from World War I to the contemporary War on Terror.
For the first time in its storied history, the museum unveils approximately 500 works that weave a visual tapestry of war. Fueled by the museum's vast archives, boasting over 23,000 hours of footage, 12 million photographs, and an unparalleled collection of war art, the Blavatnik Galleries embark on a journey to illuminate the nuanced and often unspoken aspects of conflict.
The introductory space sets the stage by encapsulating a century where sounds and images eclipsed the written word. Portable cameras supplanted pencils and watercolors, transforming war artists into subjective reporters torn between documentation and artistic expression. The modernist language of fractured planes finds expression in aerial photography, epitomized by Paul Nash's haunting "The Menin Road" (1919), revealing the brutal reality of the Western Front.
In the second gallery, "Practice and Process," giant photographs of civilians line the walls, offering a poignant reflection on the human side of conflict. Sgt. Richard Gee's American-made DeVry camera, showcased as a battered artifact, narrates the tale of its dual purpose as both a tool and a protective helmet. The gallery unveils the clandestine sketches of satirical cartoonist Ronald Searle, shedding light on the torture of British prisoners of war during World War II.
"The Power of the Image" emerges as a captivating space, employing posters, films, photography, and paintings to contrast documentary footage with political messaging and propaganda. World War I recruiting posters adopt avant-garde techniques, foreshadowing postwar popular art. The gallery juxtaposes historical propaganda with chaotic headcam footage of British troops in Afghanistan, emphasizing the visceral contrast between reality and political messaging.
The fourth gallery, "Mind and Body," serves as a poignant testament to the psychological toll of war. John Singer Sargent's "Gassed" (1919) captures a surreal moment as blinded soldiers navigate a landscape of chaos, juxtaposed with rare footage of shell-shocked soldiers at Monte Cassino in 1944. The mechanization of modern war is laid bare, yet the timeless themes of suffering and compassion persist.
Total war reshaped societal norms, integrating women into workplaces and uniforms while blurring social classes. The emergency of 1939 prompted the conscription of British modernist artists as war artists, yet the absence of iconic figures like Henry Moore and the exclusion of certain artists leave a noticeable gap. The gallery hints at the profound societal shifts but falls short of capturing the full spectrum.
The final space, "Perspectives and Frontiers," opens with a strong focus on World War I, featuring iconic works by David Bomberg, Wyndham Lewis, and John Nash. However, significant episodes from World War II, such as Dunkirk and the Battle of Britain, remain conspicuously absent. The curatorial decision not to showcase certain facts about modern war, including terrorism and mass atrocities, raises questions about a missed opportunity to complete the narrative.
In a nuanced critique, the absence of certain aspects of modern conflict is characterized as a curatorial act akin to "cowardice in the face of the enemy." The Blavatnik Galleries, while powerful and wide-ranging, grapple with the challenge of presenting a complete picture of modern war, where omissions leave room for contemplation.
