LONDON — Entering Tracey Emin’s retrospective A Second Life at Tate Modern evokes the feeling of perusing a personal diary, as her entire oeuvre serves as such. Emin and Damien Hirst were prominent figures in the Young British Artists (YBAs) movement during the 1990s, once dismissed as a minor note in art history, but now Emin is recognized as a Dame and had held the position of professor of drawing at the Royal Academy from 2011 to 2013. Her work, however, lacks a traditional art historical context: it does not engage with socio-political issues or reflect on British culture or womanhood. Instead, it remains focused on the immediate sphere — or actual body — of Tracey Emin herself.
The exhibition offers minimal context, history, or curatorial commentary, though the artworks are arranged in a loosely chronological order. Outside the entrance, a solitary panel — partially obscured by the ticket desk — presents her themes as “love, desire, loss, and grief,” without offering further biographical information beyond her Turner Prize nomination in 1999.
While the art is meant to stand on its own, it is the written words that communicate: they cover her blankets and chairs and fill numerous pages of personal thoughts, such as her “Tracey Emin C.V.” (1995). The titles of the works also provide context for many.
The recurring words “I,” “You,” and “Me” highlight Emin’s focus on her personal experiences. The identity of “You” is deliberately vague, with no clarity on whom she is addressing. Her paintings are less about traditional representation and more about visceral expressions, characterized by bold strokes of red, white, navy, and black. Emin’s studio, recreated in chaos as “Exorcism of the Last Painting I Ever Made” (1996), mirrors her paintings, which seem to exorcise her personal experiences. The painting titled “Rape” (2018) provides its context and emotional impact through its title alone. Without these words, Emin’s visually intense images lack clarity.
This exhibition is art as therapy, driven by self-exploration and reclaiming personal experiences, particularly traumatic ones like abortions and sexual assaults. Many survivors may find resonance with this, and support helplines for cancer, mental health, and sexual abuse are provided at the exit.
Should audiences engage with Emin’s deeply personal pain? If framed as representing the experiences of women or abuse victims, audiences could empathize and learn. However, Emin presents everything as personal art, fostering a cult of self that resonates in today’s Instagram era. Social media’s validation culture aligns with Emin’s work, exemplified by Polaroids documenting her body post-stoma surgery from 2020 to 2025. These images, sold in the gift shop, reflect this growing fascination with self-revelation.
The reconstruction of Emin’s unmade bed, controversially nominated for the Turner Prize, underscores her art’s impact. This piece, purchased by Charles Saatchi, challenged the notion that artistic skill is necessary for success, promoting a focus on self-expression. Emin has led the way in combining deep introspection with aggressive self-promotion, a trend clearly embraced given the exhibition’s attendance.
Tracey Emin: A Second Life is on display at Tate Modern (Bankside, London, England) until August 31. The exhibition is curated by Maria Balshaw, Alvin Li, and Jess Baxter.
