Narrowing postmodernity to the twenty years between 1970 and 1990 fixes my childhood and teenage years at the apex of the movement. Visiting the V&A’s Postmodernism: Style and Subversion, 1970-1990 exhibition today was dropping in on my youth.
A 30-second clip of Bladerunner was irresistible and I could barely tear myself from Laurie Anderson performing a fragment of O Superman. That song made every mix tape I curated. Grace Jones: remember her? She terrified me. And architecture and design: Michael Graves, Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown, James Stirling, Philip Johnson and Rem Koolhaas, each one-time heroes of mine.
But where was the literature? Surely Ballard or Bret Easton Ellis, even DeLillo merited a section. Perhaps that is another exhibition.