REVIEW: SUPERHUMAN

Here's a question for you: what's the difference between a bought cake and a home-made one? The answer is the former looks great but tastes horrible, and the latter is a bit rough around the edges, but really hits the spot. This I feel, and agree with me or not, is the perfect analogy for prosthetics limbs...

The i-limb, the most efficiently functioning prosthetic available, fools nobody. The bionic hand on display at Superhuman has the appearance of a robot, yet it is capable of picking up electrical impulses created by contracting muscles, which are then picked up by electrodes in the wrist, before being interpreted by a computer in the back of the hand. On the contrary, the 'realistic' hand which we all got to have a go with (and try out the 'nice to meet you' joke when handing it over to our neighbour) looked like a real hand, but seemed to be about as useful as attaching five sausages to your wrist. It was these two examples of prosthetics that really threw up the question of aesthetics vs. function. Or bought cake vs. home-made cake. I certainly know which one I'd prefer... Whose to say you can't decorate a bionic hand with stick on diamonds and glitter?

Whilst moving from exhibit to exhibit at Superhuman, I was struck with exactly the same feeling as I was during the London 2012 Paralympics: these people aren't striving to fit in, but to fit out (so to speak). It is far more important to emphasise and feel comfortable with these differences than to try and shroud them. My favourite example of this has to be the 'no-nose club' that existed in the 18th Century. It was a monthly gathering for any man whose nose had fallen off as a result of syphilis - a sort of gentlemen's club for the nose-less, from what I gather. Similarly, the children kitted out with artificial limbs after being affected by Thalidomide, the destructive drug of the 50s and 60s, seemed to want to abandon their extremely complex and inefficient prostheses in favour of focusing on the more important things in life at that age, such as preventing oneself from wetting the bed.

Highlighting one's differences was very much a theme of the Wellcome Collection's Superhuman exhibition, and after visiting the 'Superhuman, Superhero' exhibit, I don't blame them. An array of comic books alerted us to the fact that prosthetic limbs do not lie on a plane with the human make-up, but with the Superheroes instead. Just like you may be unable to function without an i-limb, the Iron Man is unable to function without his artificial heart. I couldn't help but feel slightly inadequate. Perhaps Lord Coe should have re-titled the Paralympics, 'The Superhero Games'. Imagine how hard it would have been to get tickets for the Olympic Park if that had happened...

A fascinating installation, kicking up against this concept that we should all be the same, was Regina José Galindo's Recortepor la Linea (or Cut Through the Line). In this, the artist is filmed standing naked, whilst a leading cosmetic surgeon marks on her the changes he would make to her body. With these marks, he strips away all traces of individuality on what is - as myself and another vulture observed - a particularly 'normal' body. Plastic surgery's constant desire for everybody to appear uniform has certainly lead to an exclusion of those of us who are different.

And Superhuman doesn't stop there: athletic supplements (both legal and illegal) are highlighted, as well as the involvement of media and prostheses, with a screening of Matthew Barney's Cremaster 3 being a rare and wonderful addition to the exhibition. And of course, I couldn't write a review without paying respect to the poor elephants, rhinoceroses and walruses who lost their lives in order to supply ivory to the manufacturers of Victorian sexual aids...

For the CULTURE VULTURES amongst Superhuman's exhibition goers, we took ourselves off to feast at the local vegan cafe (slightly going against the usual vulture diet...) and sat ourselves in the sunshine along the banks of London's canal (who knew the Thames had a straight baby brother? Not I) and talked about all things great and small.

Unfortunately Superhuman has come to an end now, but for more information on the exhibition or on the Wellcome Collection in general, do visit the following link: Wellcome Collection.

And if you want to know more about our supertalented artiste Megan Niven, e-mail culture.vultures@hotmail.co.uk