I’m writing this in a state of joy and inspiration as I just returned from the Leigh Bowery! exhibition at Tate Modern. It was truly one of the most magnificent exhibitions I have ever had the pleasure of seeing over the years – a fully rounded exploration of the art, fashions and life of Leigh Bowery.
The first room was decorated with the same wallpaper that lined Bowery’s living room – and as a full-fledged Star Trek nerd, I was beyond thrilled to see this OTT wallpaper covering the entire room. It was filled with costumes from Bowery, a portrait (above) by his artist best friend Trojan, panel collages by Stephen Willats and a video of Bowery and his friends getting ready for a night out. The second room is a riot – more fashion on display (below), most of them featuring his signature fabric masks, all a feast for the eyes – and explores the 80s club scene.
On the wall of the third room was Michael Clark’s YES Manifesto, written in 1984 as a response to choreographer Yvonne Rainer’s NO Manifesto.
Yes to spectacle.
Yes to virtuosity.
Yes to transformations and magic and make-believe.
Yes to the glamour and transcendency of the star image.
Yes to the heroic.
Yes to the anti-heroic.
Yes to trash imagery.
Yes to the involvement of the performer or spectator.
Yes to style.
Yes to camp.
Yes to seduction by the wiles of the performer.
Yes to eccentricity.
Yes to moving or being moved.
YES Manifesto resonated with me and what we aim to do with our creations at Eau de Boujee – I immediately sent it to Pia who responded with an immediate “that’s familiar!!!” (and yes, she included all 3 exclamation points).
Moving through the exhibition, you’re overwhelmed by the visuals and excess, an explosion of creativity and subversive sense of play. There’s incredible photography from Nick Knight and Fergus Greet, the portraits he sat for Lucian Freud, as well as sketches, letters, notes and postcards (above, featuring lyrics of Send in the Clowns from Sondheim's A Little Night Music) from Bowery himself.
One thing I delighted in discovering was that Bowery’s ‘Mirror’ performance at the Anthony d’Offay Gallery in 1988 was scented. Every day for a week (in a different costume, of course!), the artist spent 2 hours performing behind a two way mirror for an audience he couldn’t see. As with most of Bowery’s work, his body was the art, striking narcissistic poses in an attempt to open “a discourse on the social constructs of beauty, identity, and the Other”. This happened to a soundtrack taken from the streets while the scent of bananas and marshmallows was pumped into the room. How I’d love to have been there as a fly on the wall watching the faces of visitors.
As a kid, I remember seeing a short segment from The Clothes Show featuring Leigh Bowery shopping and taking tea in Harrods with host Caryn Franklin that filled me with glee and confusion. This wonderful, larger than life character dressed in bizarre clothes that made no sense to me as things you might want to wear every day, but they were shiny and colourful and fantastical. I had no idea who Bowery was, his relevance or importance as a performer and host of club nights. But over the years, I’ve become enamoured with Bowery’s work and legacy. And this exhibition has made me fall even more deeply for his camp genius.
Bowery appears to have delighted in being an outsider, shocking others and being a true visionary that made his body his art. His influence can still be felt and seen in the worlds of fashion, art, music and drag today – even if your only exposure to drag is through Drag Race, you’ll have seen runways that pay homage to his incredible artistry. Sadly, like so many artists of his time, he was lost too young to HIV related complications. I often think about the immense loss that happened in that stretch of time, and remember that its important to live authentically to honour those who paved the way for us to be here today.
I don’t want to give too much away, as I want everyone to visit and be just as blown away as I was. I’ll make a return visit later in the year – I would like to live in there for a while, absorbing everything again – the exhibition is running until 31 August 2025 at Tate Modern.