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Articles about Tracey Emin

Tate Magazine, Issue 1 by Melanie McGrath.

Few artists are subjected to fierce public scrutiny in the British tabloids like Tracey Emin. But is she a great artist? Melanie Mcgrath meets the artist whose appearances in art magazines have been shockingly rare.

I've never given Tracey Emin much real thought. Until a few weeks ago I passed her off as the artist who displayed her bed in the Tate and lurched about pissed on TV. I'm of a mind to blame celebrity for this, because of course Tracey Emin is a celebrity. A big one. The kind who only has to sneeze to make it into the red tops. I'm not immune to her fame. I've had my fair share of celebrity thoughts about her. They're not all that interesting. Here are some: 'She looks like Frida Kahlo', and 'I wonder what she'd be like in bed?' and 'She must be worth a bloody bomb' (I did warn you). But as for real live-and-kicking ideas, actual neural sparks, genuine considered opinions about Emin as an artist, well, they have been a bit thin on my intellectual ground.

So here's where I begin. These thoughts aren't entirely worked out yet. I'm still in a process of discovery. But then you probably are too. So what you're about to read is a sort of travelogue of ideas, a trip across my mind as it considers Tracey Emin. You'll add in your thoughts and feelings and if we're lucky we'll get somewhere by the end.
Read entire article Source: http://www.tate.org.uk

Tracey Emin: Stedelijk Museum by Barry Schwabsky

Only a handful of contemporary artists are household names. In England, at least, Tracey Emin tops the list. I began to understand why a few years ago when she walked into an opening and immediately this warm, happy feeling went through me: Ah, there's my pal Tracey! I had to quickly remind myself that Ms. Emin and I had never actually met. Yet very few works in any medium give as vivid an illusion of intimacy as Emin's early videos, most notably How It Feels, 1996--the horror story of a botched abortion-and Why I Never Became a Dancer, 1995, which recounts an episode of humiliation at a dance contest as the impetus to chuck the buried life of Emin's provincial seaside hometown, the scene of her rape and ensuing promiscuity. These first-person underdog narratives are far more than just outpourings of pathos or cries for sympathy; rather, the coolly furious analytical acumen the artist directs toward her own feelings tells you that here, at last, someone is leveling with you about the way things are and, indee d, how it feels.
Read entire article Source: http://www.findarticles.com

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