When Linda Mulvey hit 21, she opted for a single name—Linder—that felt more potent. Now, the Hayward Gallery is staging a sweeping survey of her five-decade output. Wander through four expansive rooms and you’ll see everything from early photo shoots of her face wrapped in transparent film (pearls and theatrical makeup accenting the look) to a kaleidoscope of collages that blend racy imagery with household objects. In a nod to her origins, she’s even repurposed her late uncle’s stash of vintage magazines for new pieces partly motivated by the rise of deepfake technology—placing her own visage on a performer’s body and rethinking how images get manipulated.
Linder discovered collage in the mid-70s while studying graphic design, after stumbling on a publication that highlighted boundary-pushing names like Hannah Höch. Ever since, she’s confronted cultural norms head-on—whether she was building muscle at a mostly male gym in Manchester in the early 80s or painting Morrissey’s nails backstage in the 90s. That spirit of subversion traces back to her childhood. A relative exposed her to explicit material when she was far too young, and as she sees it, that trauma spurred her fascination with flipping the power dynamic in porn. For years, she’s reworked it into defiantly feminist statements, turning used magazines into collectible artworks that museums scramble to procure.
This new presentation, titled Danger Came Smiling, underscores how Linder can transform even the rawest source material into pointed social commentary. She’s aware of her influence, too—her knack for fusing everyday culture with a rebellious streak has resonated far beyond gallery walls. Alongside the exhibition, there’s also renewed interest in her monograph Linderism, first released in 2020 at Kettle’s Yard, which dives deeper into her journey through performance, photography, and collage. The Hayward retrospective runs 11 February to 5 May, offering an unfiltered look at an artist who has never played it safe.
