Millbank Prison, upon whose ruins Tate Britain is founded, rises from the banks of history to subsume the building. More likely than not, a little politicised blemish is calculated to provide a counterpoint to its overall perfection of composition. After all, there is currently a fashion amongst institutions to do a little bit of apologising for past 'misconduct'. It is incumbent upon the Tate to be seen to incorporate or at least editorialise its other, to play its part in a broader current of the 'reinvention' of Britain. Whilst Britishness, the premise upon which the Tate at Millbank is being reprogrammed, is a flimsy fiction that never fails to sour, it is one operating in a wider context which also pertains to this work.
Museums are inherently conservative.
At the same time, they are compelled to be speculative, looking for points of rupture in their collection, in their understanding of what constitutes 'important' art. To complicate matters, it is perhaps those artists whose activity most profoundly breaks with the established currents of art practice and with the social normativity of the museum who can make most use of them. Despite the architecture, it must be understood that museums are not monolithic. They are riven with interdepartmental factions and disciplinary approaches, bids for new angles on which careers can be made. At the same time for artists, they act as a megaphone which can be grabbed, through which public thought can be taken on a detour.