Tracey Emin is ahead of the pack by miles; the others present work in a single medium that explores a single idea. Jane and Louise Wilson intercut shots of the tunnels beneath the Hoover Dam with lounges of Caesar’s Palace. But, without the tension inherent in videos such as ‘Stasi City’ and ‘Gamma’, the interiors are reduced to a series of visually pleasing patterns. Steven Pippin’s ‘Laundromat-Locomotion’, a series of photographs taken with washing machines as cameras comes across better as a book; the installation seems too sparse and empty. Steve McQueen shows ‘Current’, a slide projection of a bicycle lying in shallow water which, though beautiful, seems pointless. Emin has one subject – herself; but she takes you beyond the realm of narcissism. Her eight videos offer more than the other exhibits put together. At the centre of her installation is an unmade bed with dirty sheets. Grotty slippers nestle among condoms and KY jelly, a tampon and stained knickers, aspirin, alcohol and a pack of Marlboro Lights. Humour alleviates the blackness of drawings that often consist only of captions, a form of thinking out loud. Most impressive is the variety of work. ‘Every part of me is bleeding’ is written in baby blue neon. ‘No Chance’ is an appliquéd blanket that says goodbye to ‘Thanet Planet’ and ‘Welcome to the World.’ Welcome to my tip for the Turner Prize winner.
