Leigh Bowery at Tate - A glittering spectacle that (almost) goes all the way

The 80s and 90s were an explosion of fantasy, wildness, and radical self-expression, and Leigh Bowery embodied it all—performance artist, club legend, and a provocateur whose body was his art. Tate Modern’s exhibition celebrates his legacy with dynamic curation and jaw-dropping fashion. It’s fun, engaging, and absolutely Bowery.

The show evolves from colour to black and white, from punk and full of life to intimacy building up to Lucian Freud’s portraits of Leigh—placed across from a costume reading “A CUNT” in bold lettering. It is well curated, the labels are fun, and the design is big and bold. A super yes. But while the exhibition nails his fashion and spirit of the time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

Bowery wasn’t just about clothes—he was about the chaos, the shock, the happening. Where’s the unexpected? The drag queen popping up out of nowhere? The out of hours performances? The kind of absurdity that leaves you unsettled? Perhaps a Tate Late under the club kids theme? (please!). Even the “dark room” felt a bit too tame. Leigh was never about playing it safe, so why should this show?

Tate’s exhibition is a thrilling ride, but for those who live and breathe this world (as someone like me who grew up surrounded by wild costumes, loved this imagery, and remains part of a community that lives for the queerness, the performance, the all night trash club magic) it might leave you craving a bit more chaos, a little more Leigh.