Christian aesthetic

What strikes you almost immediately when visiting the retrospective devoted to Tracey Emin (born in 1963)—the major London event of the season, on view at the Tate Modern through August 31—is that her artistic vision seems, in certain respects, to follow a Christian aesthetic.

Sexual life and martyrdom

 

Such a statement would hardly please ecclesiastical authorities, given that the artist first became known in the 1990s by recounting her sexual life in unfiltered terms. Nor is Tracey Catholic. But those familiar with the celebrated British artist’s work know one essential thing: she is certainly an extremely free woman who shatters taboos. Yet through art she cries out her passion and her pain. She is obsessed with the idea of martyrdom—herself, in this case—and with redemption.

A second life

Even the title of the exhibition alludes to the New Testament: “Tracey Emin: A Second Life.” For Tracey is a resurrected woman. The artist was struck by an extremely serious cancer that suggested a swift death. Five years later, against all medical predictions, she is still here—undeniably weakened, yet animated by spectacular courage.

In her pajamas

On the morning of the press conference, the former Young British Artist did not attend in person. Still in her pajamas, she spoke by videoconference. “My full name is Tracey Karima Emin,” she proclaimed, underscoring that the woman who was knighted by the King in 2025 is the daughter of a Cypriot émigré of Black descent and a mother with Romani roots.

Ready-made of her depression

At the Tate, around one hundred works are on display, including embroidered textiles, intimate phrases in neon, videos, photographs—some almost unbearable to look at, taken in the aftermath of her recent surgery—the notorious 1998 bed surrounded by detritus, a ready-made of her depression. But above all, pride of place is given to the paintings produced since 2018, which are deeply impressive.

Bodies emerging from a confusion of lines

Hovering between abstraction and figuration, they depict bodies emerging from a confusion of lines and drips. “I wanted to show that Tracey is a true painter, on a par with the greats in this category,” explains Harry Weller, her close assistant since 2019, who contributed extensively to the exhibition’s installation.

Maria Balshaw

The curator, who is also the museum’s outgoing director, Maria Balshaw, was determined to stage this retrospective because: “Tracey has worked intensely across every possible medium. She tells the story of a woman who lives like an artist—one of the greatest.”

Roller coaster of life

Among the lesser-known pieces shown at the Tate is a roller coaster from her childhood, reconstructed in thin wooden slats. One cannot help but see it as a metaphor for her life—like emotional whiplash: rape at 13, abortions, violent breakups, illness…and, more broadly, a metaphor for the emotional roller coaster experienced by women in general

Slag!

The most moving video (1995), in which she dances triumphantly, is titled Why I Never Became a Dancer. In voice-over she recounts her public humiliation as a teenager during a dance competition, when boys shouted “Slag!” during her performance.

Breast reduction

The Tate exhibition, which will travel to Korea and Denmark, marks a major recognition of Tracey Emin in her own country. She anticipates its impact with humor: “Fifteen years ago I had a breast reduction. I thought that with smaller  boobs my life would change and everything would be wonderful. In fact, nothing changed—except that people told me, ‘You look well, you look happy.’ I think it’s going to be the same with this exhibition.”