Compounding the domestic and the political, Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing, 2004, an appliquéd blanket work, is a seething and blistering attack by artist Tracey Emin on the now deceased former British Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, and her participation in the Falklands War of 1982 where more than 900 people perished.
Situated within the Homeworkers room at Tate Modern, London, within the permanent collection known as Energy and Process, Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing occupies an all female, evocative, politically charged room.
The Homeworkers room, which is a relatively new room within Tate, is dedicated to the subversion of craft as a gendered domain and instead produces a powerful means of expressing political opposition. This work by Emin corrupts the appropriation of everyday objects associated with the female role, using it against a patriarchal society as a means of political damnation and aggressive accountability.
The Homeworkers room, which is a relatively new room within Tate, is dedicated to the subversion of craft as a gendered domain and instead produces a powerful means of expressing political opposition. This work by Emin corrupts the appropriation of everyday objects associated with the female role, using it against a patriarchal society as a means of political damnation and aggressive accountability.
This textile, made by Emin in 2004, transforms the traditional sphere of quilting from a passive, pleasant activity signifying domestic bliss, to an enraged piece of self-expression and blunt damnation. In the construction of this textile, Emin appropriates an old, sickly pink blanket which she cuts in two and inserts another piece of fabric of similar colour. Sewn onto this innocuous background are floral fabrics, a highly soiled flag and felt lettering. These materials are roughly attached with a hemmed blanket stitch by seemingly inexpert hands.
An English flag with a Union Jack in the upper corner occupies the top portion of the blanket with the words “PERMISSION TO FIRE” emblazed above. This flag, known as the British ensign, is flown on British Royal Navy Ships, and it is this that makes explicit reference to the Falklands war and to Mrs Thatcher. The word “ENZINE [sic]”, which denotes a national flag flown at sea, is adhered across the front of the flag. We are to be under no illusion as to the events in which Emin is referring. Appliquéd over this are individual flowers cut from printed fabric which form an ill-defined cross. The artist explicitly and unequivocally denounces Thatcher by stating “ROT IN HELL” and by calling her, “YOU CRUEL HEARTLESS BITCH… ONE DAY YOU WILL ASK YOURSELF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE… TO [sic] LATE”.
The medium of embroidery and appliqué speak powerfully and eloquently of its subject matter. Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing subverts expected tropes of gendered norms and female power relationships. The use of something so intrinsically associated with the home and with nurture as a means of aggressive accountability breaks down expectations of women and their roles within society. Emin is not speaking here of just any politician, or any war, but Britain’s first and only female Prime Minister who’s reign still divides debate and causes mass controversy. By reasserting an object of comfort - a woollen blanket – into an object of powerful indignation and political opinion against a female politician questions both the power structures of war and politics but also where women are expected to fit within this harsh, patriarchal society.
The rough, rugged nature of the lettering is comparable to protest placards and signs. These types of protest banners are commonly handmade and used as a means of voicing anger and political unrest. Emin is doing just that here with this blanket; she is aggressively denouncing a war she sees as fundamentally wrong. There is more than one voice at work as she states “THERES [sic] NO ONE IN THIS ROOM WHO HAS NOT THOUGHT OF KILLING” and also “THE WORSE I COULD DO IS BETRAYE [sic]”. These multiple voices make the viewer complicit and accountable. We are all guilty by association perhaps, for allowing these terrible events to take place.
Language is used as a compelling and dominant means of articulation in Emin’s work and should be regarded as a separate, intentionally misleading component. In Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing, the artist uses language in a powerfully assertive manner. Through the explicit use of direct, unequivocal language and terms such as “I HATE WOMEN LIKE YOU” the audience are unmistakably aware of the resentment and anger felt by Emin. The lower portion of the artwork presents us with two discreet panels of white fabric, roughly attached. These swatches contain small, hand-written text by the artist in pink pen. The fabric on the left states “800 men and boys/ their bodies floating/ like flotsam and /jetsam on the surf/ ice cold black/ waters, an eary [sic] grave,/ of which you invented’. On the other piece of fabric we read: “Crimes against Humanity, you, supposed mother – A mother who Reiked [sic] of Power CRAZY Hate and Fear, of all the terrible things that you did, in the name of political conquest. In 1982, A year so many conscripts did not got home – Because you, you killed them all.”
Emin embraces grammar and spelling errors both in her art and her writings. She intentionally leaves these mistakes as they were written. Letters may not even necessarily appear in the correct form as in the case of the ‘N’ of “I HATE WOMEN LIKE YOU”. It could be said, this inability to play by the rules, to conform to rigid linguistic standards, is Emin’s way of pointing to the inadequacy of the symbolic realm at representing the female subject. Women are insufficiently represented within semantics which incessantly point to masculine subjectivity therefore Emin refuses to use its logic of expression.
Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing is an astutely conceived piece of political expression and female oppression. Emin subverts expected tropes of gender and politics in this muti-layered, multi-faceted eloquent piece of work.
An English flag with a Union Jack in the upper corner occupies the top portion of the blanket with the words “PERMISSION TO FIRE” emblazed above. This flag, known as the British ensign, is flown on British Royal Navy Ships, and it is this that makes explicit reference to the Falklands war and to Mrs Thatcher. The word “ENZINE [sic]”, which denotes a national flag flown at sea, is adhered across the front of the flag. We are to be under no illusion as to the events in which Emin is referring. Appliquéd over this are individual flowers cut from printed fabric which form an ill-defined cross. The artist explicitly and unequivocally denounces Thatcher by stating “ROT IN HELL” and by calling her, “YOU CRUEL HEARTLESS BITCH… ONE DAY YOU WILL ASK YOURSELF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE… TO [sic] LATE”.
The medium of embroidery and appliqué speak powerfully and eloquently of its subject matter. Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing subverts expected tropes of gendered norms and female power relationships. The use of something so intrinsically associated with the home and with nurture as a means of aggressive accountability breaks down expectations of women and their roles within society. Emin is not speaking here of just any politician, or any war, but Britain’s first and only female Prime Minister who’s reign still divides debate and causes mass controversy. By reasserting an object of comfort - a woollen blanket – into an object of powerful indignation and political opinion against a female politician questions both the power structures of war and politics but also where women are expected to fit within this harsh, patriarchal society.
The rough, rugged nature of the lettering is comparable to protest placards and signs. These types of protest banners are commonly handmade and used as a means of voicing anger and political unrest. Emin is doing just that here with this blanket; she is aggressively denouncing a war she sees as fundamentally wrong. There is more than one voice at work as she states “THERES [sic] NO ONE IN THIS ROOM WHO HAS NOT THOUGHT OF KILLING” and also “THE WORSE I COULD DO IS BETRAYE [sic]”. These multiple voices make the viewer complicit and accountable. We are all guilty by association perhaps, for allowing these terrible events to take place.
Language is used as a compelling and dominant means of articulation in Emin’s work and should be regarded as a separate, intentionally misleading component. In Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing, the artist uses language in a powerfully assertive manner. Through the explicit use of direct, unequivocal language and terms such as “I HATE WOMEN LIKE YOU” the audience are unmistakably aware of the resentment and anger felt by Emin. The lower portion of the artwork presents us with two discreet panels of white fabric, roughly attached. These swatches contain small, hand-written text by the artist in pink pen. The fabric on the left states “800 men and boys/ their bodies floating/ like flotsam and /jetsam on the surf/ ice cold black/ waters, an eary [sic] grave,/ of which you invented’. On the other piece of fabric we read: “Crimes against Humanity, you, supposed mother – A mother who Reiked [sic] of Power CRAZY Hate and Fear, of all the terrible things that you did, in the name of political conquest. In 1982, A year so many conscripts did not got home – Because you, you killed them all.”
Emin embraces grammar and spelling errors both in her art and her writings. She intentionally leaves these mistakes as they were written. Letters may not even necessarily appear in the correct form as in the case of the ‘N’ of “I HATE WOMEN LIKE YOU”. It could be said, this inability to play by the rules, to conform to rigid linguistic standards, is Emin’s way of pointing to the inadequacy of the symbolic realm at representing the female subject. Women are insufficiently represented within semantics which incessantly point to masculine subjectivity therefore Emin refuses to use its logic of expression.
Hate and Power Can be a Terrible Thing is an astutely conceived piece of political expression and female oppression. Emin subverts expected tropes of gender and politics in this muti-layered, multi-faceted eloquent piece of work.