Double act put humour back into artGilbert & George's retrospective had me in stitches


Pair of jokers ... Gilbert& George at Tate Modern. Photograph: Sarah Lee

You're not meant to laugh in art galleries. Like libraries, there's an unspoken golden rule - you must observe in silent contemplation.

But when I went to see Gilbert & George's retrospective at Tate Modern the tutting was almost deafening. It was my fault. I just couldn't stop laughing. Like a mad man. Ha ha ha-ha ha! Major Exhibition has been the funniest show to hit London in years. And Gilbert & George are one of the great comedy double acts.

Others have noted the similarities between Gilbert & George and Morecambe and Wise. It's a mildly amusing conceit that doesn't go beyond one of them being taller with glasses, and the other being shorter without. Oh, and they both they live in the same house. In The Words Of Gilbert & George - an extremely funny book, by the way - George is asked about this and deadpans; "One of us is not dead."

No, Gilbert & George are more like Derek and Clive. It's life seen through the gin-soaked tears of two clowns; their respective videos Gordon's Makes Us Drunk (1971) and Derek And Clive Get The Horn (1979) are portraits of the pissed artists every bit as depressing as they are hilarious. Derek And Clive's brief burst of glory was at the arse-end of the 70s, just as Gilbert & George came to artistic fruition with The Dirty Words Pictures (1977). Both were intuitively punk. And they knew that the fastest way to an Englishman's chuckle-muscle was not just to swear loads, but to expose our total unease with our own bodies.

I actually prefer what Woody Allen might call "the early, funny ones". In keeping with G&G's manifesto, Art For All, you can see these for free. In the concourse at Tate Modern is my favourite; George The Cunt And Gilbert The Shit (1969), two portraits of the artists as young men adorned with these very legends. In the cafe, you can watch the film of them doing their sublime Bend It dance in The Singing Sculpture (1969). In bronze face-paint and dancing like robots from 1984, this anticipated Kraftwerk's camp futurism schtick by several years. Both pieces are warning signs before any idiots wander into the exhibition by mistake: "Do not take us seriously!"

Now, I know what you're thinking. "But Gilbert & George are awful! They say they love the Queen and they vote Tory!"

Oh come on now! Can't you see that's been their biggest joke of all?