For a while there, Robbie Williams was pretty damn insistent that he would just rock all night, DJ. But artistic geniuses cannot live on rock alone, and the former boyband superstar has been looking for other ways to satisfy his pangs of creative hunger. And judging by the awkward, anxious paintings and sculptures here at Moco – London’s newest “museum” – it’s art that he’s decided to stuff his face with.
The big printed canvases of computerised line drawings on the walls are filled with therapy speak, greeting card banter and patronising, meaningless affirmations. An aeroplane flying across a blue sky pulls a banner that reads: “Yes you are self centred, but what a marvellous self to be centred on.” And my stomach starts turning. The words “roses are red, violets are blue, everyone’s a dickhead except you” are written across a cassette tape, while bubble font spells out: “I’m sorry about being incredibly charasmatic [sic] I tried to not be but there was nothing I could do about it.”
