Definitive Richard Long Book Alongside Exhibition
When the Tate stage a major show, you know there will be a pretty definitive book to accompany it – and Richard Long's retrospective 'Heaven and Earth' is no different.
The first show in 18 years by this Turner Prize-winning artist features four decades of work. The book records this lifetime's work and includes an introduction by Sir Nicholas Serota, an interview with the artist by Michael Craig-Martin and an essay by Clarrie Wallis.
It's easily the most comprehensive study of this artist, and its publication may well see his reputation grow. Fellow land artist Andy Goldsworthy has become primary school fodder on the strength of his published work; hopefully, this book will take Long to a much wider audience in the same way.
Long's work is, of course, eminently suited to the published form.
He takes dramatic photographs of the landscape, recording the marks he has made with his feet in the dirt, or lines, circles and spirals of stones in the landscape. The photographs are generally black and white, and even when they are in colour it is somehow muted, faded and washed out. There is a strong feeling of nostalgia in Long's photographs, even though – devoid of human figures and man-made objects – they are in fact completely timeless.
The occasional interruption, of a woman sitting in one of Long's circles, or a pair of rucksacks propped against a wall, slightly weakens the work they record.
But his text-based works, usually painted large onto gallery walls as in the current Tate show, transfer brilliantly into a book. The elegant fonts take on a different tone, quieter on the page than when seen as monumental works on the wall. They are easier to read, slower and more meditative. In this more traditional format, they are much more like the poetry they are often compared to.
The only area of Long's work that fails to transfer well to the printed work are his paintings on gallery walls, and the stone circles brought into the gallery space. They are too vital, urgent and the way they inhabit the space can't be captured in photographs. Consequently, while it is important that they are documented here, they only take up – at most – one eighth of the book.
The written word accompanying the work here is simple, clear and useful, avoiding the mistake too many art books make of being too clever. The conversation between Michael Craig-Martin and Richard Long is exactly that, a conversation. It's loose, friendly and informal. Clarrie Wallis's essay 'Making Tracks' is clear, chronological overview of the Long's career. It informs and educates, highlighting key themes and relationships to other artists, movements and moments in history.
Overall, it's a perfectly balanced book and will become recognised as the definitive work on the artist.
And Nicholas Serota's introduction is elegant, and it provides the last word needed on Long – “Few artists make us more aware of the power and fragility of the earth or, indeed, our own brief passage across its face.”
Richard Long, 'Heaven and Earth' - Tate Publishing, ISBN 978 1 85437 8415 – is out now