Grayson Perry‘s “Delusions of Grandeur” at the Wallace Collection: A Bold, Yet Flawed, Examination of Class, Gender, and Mental Health
The acclaimed british artist Grayson Perry’s latest exhibition at the Wallace Collection, “Delusions of Grandeur,” offers a provocative, if somewhat uneven, exploration of class, gender, and mental health through the lens of Rococo masterpieces. Perry’s work, anchored by the persona of his alter ego Shirley Smith, attempts to dissect themes of class, gender, and mental illness, but ultimately falls short of a truly nuanced engagement with these complex issues.
Perry launches his exploration with a striking reimagining of Jean-Honoré Fragonard’s iconic “The Swing” (1767-68). His tapestry,”Fascist Swing” (2024),transforms the pastel-hued scene of flirtation into a “fever-dream” characterized by “psychedelically bright colors” and a woman whose smile has morphed into a “mask of horror.” The playful suitors are absent, leaving Perry’s protagonist isolated in what the text describes as a “mental disintegration,” depicting a “delusion of excess and grandeur” mirroring, yet darkening, Fragonard’s original.
Central to the exhibition is the character of Shirley Smith, a working-class Londoner imagined by Perry as experiencing “delusions of grandeur” and believing herself to be the rightful heir to Hertford House, the Wallace Collection’s home. Smith is inspired, in part, by outsider artists like Aloïse Corbaz (1886-1964) and Madge Gill (1882-61), whose works are also featured in the show. Perry blurs the lines between reality and fiction,presenting fictionalized “archival” materials alongside genuine documentation of Gill’s interactions with the Wallace Collection in the 1940s.
The immersive experience is further enhanced by an audio guide narrated alternately by Perry and Smith, though the text notes a problematic element: Smith is given a “caricatured Cockney accent,” perpetuating a “lazily stereotyped image of working-class identity.” This stylistic choice, while aiming for characterization, undermines the exhibition’s broader aims of thoughtful social commentary.
The exhibition culminates in a recreation of the bedroom where Smith supposedly spent her final days, featuring objects like a cabinet adorned with portraits of women from the Wallace Collection and “Hospital Queen” (2024), a hand-beaded self-portrait purportedly created during a stay in a mental hospital. While these pieces evoke a morbid interest, the text suggests Perry’s treatment of mental health feels “flippant,” despite his own experiences with related issues.
This perceived lack of nuance extends to Perry’s broader analysis. In “A Tree in a Landscape” (2024), he labels portrait miniatures with mental health diagnoses, prompting the question, “Do we?” pathologize everyday traits. The text criticizes this approach as “glib,” arguing that Perry fails to fully grapple with the realities of serious mental illness.
A recurring issue throughout the exhibition is Perry’s engagement with complex cultural issues. “Man of Stories” (2024), a “hideously beaded sculpture” inspired by the “expert storytellers of the Luba people in central Africa,” raises concerns about exoticism. The text points out that Perry fails to explain the connection between the Luba people and the Wallace Collection, or the rationale behind his inspiration, perhaps implying a “desirable non-intellectualism” to the culture.
Despite these shortcomings, the exhibition’s popularity – described as “packed” on a Saturday afternoon – underscores Perry’s ability to draw audiences into conversations about gender and class. His “colorful, down-to-earth approach” is undeniably appealing, but the text argues that this accessibility shouldn’t come at the expense of a more “nuanced approach” to these sensitive topics. Ultimately, “Delusions of Grandeur” is a bold and aspiring exhibition that, while sparking important dialogue, is ultimately hampered by its occasional insensitivity and lack of depth.
