A giant sound system towers against green mountains in Peter Doig’s painting Maracas, while a tiny man stands on a speaker-stack to reveal the monstrous scale. It’s a utopian – or dystopian – daydream of what sound can be. Could the speakers broadcast enough sonic power, enough soul and love, to blast away reality? They are silent, of course; the mystery, the dread, lies in the expectancy.
Not any longer. House of Music, Peter Doig’s new exhibition, or club, or festival, turns this painting hanging in the Serpentine’s vestibule-like introductory space into a manifesto, and turns up the volume.
