
Photo © Adam Banks 2005
In case you’ve been living in a cave, the UK’s largest contemporary art space outside London opened last month in a converted flour mill on the Tyne. Arriving on the second day, Twenty/20 found a half-hour queue, undermining architect Dominic Williams’ intention of encouraging all to wander in. Lift problems were blamed, but too many other glitches betrayed inept management.
The building itself, though, is a success, capitalising straightforwardly on its dramatic scale and position. Director Sune Nordgren has a lot of space to fill for £1.5m a year, and the inaugural show is credible but sparse. A Meccano Tyne bridge overlooked by the real one is a coup, but this and others by Chris Burden don’t merit a whole floor. Julian Opie’s giant outlined nudes, eye-catching externally, seem like make-weight inside. Carsten Höller’s neon installation, near the entrance, attracts yet another queue, inhibiting interaction. Best is Jaume Plensa’s roomful of gongs, labelled ‘War, ‘Semen’, ‘Silence’ and so forth, struck at will by visitors to fill the huge space with a huge sound.
Lacking a permanent collection, Baltic is partly an ‘art factory’, providing studios that bring artists into the museum. Community support seems assured; its place within a brilliantly regenerated culture and leisure destination will bring interest from further afield, but more art will be needed to sustain it.

