Matts Leiderstam: Grand Tour
Until September 25; Dundee Contemporary Arts

In 1996 Swedish artist Matts Leiderstam had an idea. Seeing the Tate’s exhibition about the Grand Tour – in which young gentlemen of yesteryear toured Europe’s cultural hot-spots – he made a connection. Today, many young gentlemen still tour the hot-spots of Europe, but this time with their trusty Spartacus International Gay Guide.

In 1997 Leiderstam debuted his alternative version of the Grand Tour at the Venice Biennale, making this link between high culture and gay culture. The project must have received a warm response, given the support that it has enjoyed since, touring Europe and amassing new elements along the way.

Dundee’s version of the show starts well, with a telescope pointing out over the silvery Tay. Actually, the Tay is golden here, filtered through a special yellow lens. With the naked eye, all you can see is a dirty great construction site. Through the telescope, a bucolic scene fits the frame perfectly; a tree to the left is perfectly balanced by a cow to the right, all surrounded by luscious green.

Seeing this, I wonder whether a landscape by Claude Lorraine, or by Constable, has been slipped into the telescope. Then a cow moves and the idyllic scene is proved after all to be 21st century Fife. I’m hooked by this simple exercise in seeing things differently. All at once, the boundaries between life and art history have dropped away, and the rest of the exhibition beckons.

The main gallery space is decked out as an archive, with 14 tables containing books and objects, all inviting close scrutiny. The design is fresh and inviting, and it’s possible to stay there for a very long time looking for clues with the magnifying glasses provided. Unfortunately, these objects don’t live up to the show’s initial promise. Clues lead nowhere and the most interesting information is contained in Leiderstam’s source material, not in what he’s done with it.

Magnifying glasses, filters and telescopes all suggest alternative ways of seeing, as do Leiderstam’s clumsy copies of paintings by Grand Tour favourites such as Poussin and Claude.

In the new versions, Greek and Roman shepherds gaze directly at the viewer, as if to invite you into the scene. The Spartacus guide is left open at pages listing gay cruising areas, in case you don’t get the hint. If you’re still in any doubt, Leiderstam has abandoned versions of these paintings in cruising areas to be picked up and taken home by anonymous gay men.

Other painted copies pick out tiny details of a Canaletto here and a Piranesi there – both situated in famous Roman piazzas. Leiderstam homes in on the figures of men interacting in the streets, and walking casually past each other. Again, Spartacus is left casually open, revealing that today, these piazzas are known cruising areas. This is nothing but high class innuendo, with no apparent basis in research.

Continuing with the Graham Norton school of art history, Leiderstam takes particular interest in paintings of Mount Vesuvius erupting, and the Niagara Falls gushing.

Having pored over every piece of this exhibition jigsaw, ready to find new insights, it’s a big disappointment to fit all these pieces together to find nothing more than a nudge and a wink.

Catrìona Black, Sunday Herald 11.09.05