At its best, Raven Row delves into ideas as obscure as “the art school in 1970” or “public access television as art” that few institutions could pull off without a current-thing mandate. At its worst, it coasts on the quality of its floor finishes, a reputation for a quirky, curatorless structure, and the founder’s eccentricity.

This group exhibition of nearly thirty artists makes a pitch at both extremes, failing to reach either. A formalist sensibility unconvincingly lines up works like Samuel Jeffrey’s plaster boxes, Stuart Middleton’s mass-market assemblies, and Andrea Büttner’s dull ceiling tile paintings. This method is familiar from German Kunsthalle shows of the mid-2000s, although the three-paragraph write-up vaguely suggests that the project reflects years of conversations between artist-run spaces “in London and elsewhere”. 

What a 1990 Terry Atkinson does in this contemporary art history-in-the-making project next to a 1980 Gilbert & George is not explained. Solomon Garçon’s lazy sound piece and Yuki Kamura’s unnecessary steel and glass kitchen assemblies, similarly, come without excuses. Judith Goddard’s 1983s studio video with roses is the exhibition’s standout. It has, however, enjoyed better chatter elsewhere.