Presented for the first time in the UK, Tate Modern’s Ana Mendieta retrospective manages to be expansive while also zeroing in on the artist’s core themes and symbols—if at the expense of their broader meaning in contemporary society.

It is hard to pinpoint along which lines Tate has organised this enormous retrospective. The sections somewhat arbitrarily follow the natural settings that Mendieta used. But, even then, the layout is quite open, allowing visitors to freely explore, like a grove or forest, the various sculptures, photographs and video works in the space. What transcends this categorisation, forming the spine of the body of work, is the silhouette that Mendieta finds, as well as places in nature.

Starting before the Sihuetas series, we see how abstracted images of the vagina begin to resemble the human form as a whole. Tate is wary not to see this as metonymic, but instead, through the sheer size of the show’s main hall, filled with recreation after recreation of this elliptical shape in various locations, that the connection of femininity to the earth goes much deeper.

The majority of the show consists of photography, with some sculptural work and painting, as well as a host of video works. What unites these is a sense of happenstance; Mendieta had found these shapes in nature (which is true in some cases) and photographed them (in contrast to Richard Long’s circle photography, which is concurrently on display in Tate’s Blavatnik building). They gain a sense of pastness, of existing long before she finds them. 

As images in the human conscience, they can often appear to represent death—perhaps the most famous work in the show is Imagen de Yagul, a photograph of Mendieta covered in flowers, lying in a burial ruin. But, while the stone is old and worn away, Mendieta’s body and the flowers are radiant and full of life. It makes sense that this work has become the defining image of this retrospective, and indeed, contemporary audiences’ understanding of Mendieta’s work, in what it portrays so vividly: the allegorical nature of the female form, reproduced and ritualised, but, as Mendieta herself says, “reaffirming myself in the world” by returning it to nature.

The retrospective comes at a good time, not only because of the politicisation of the female body and of the environment, but also because of the way these issues are communicated. While there are just a few explorations of Mendieta’s connection to the religious rituals of faiths like Santería, the engagement with earthen rituals takes us away from the ephemerality of modern image making. 

This is only worth mentioning because much of the show engages with the video works in the Silhuetas series. Disregarding the politics of video, Mendieta shoots silhouettes with the stillness of photography, the only movement coming from the natural world surrounding them. Turning video into another means of ritual, the medium is given an eternal quality that goes against its mainstream uses on television and nowadays on social media.

While these themes of allegory, ritual and the eternal are left as open-ended as the symbols themselves, accessible to viewers from all walks of life, it seems a missed opportunity not to relate Mendieta and her work to the way the issues she focuses on continue to endure today. The show includes paraphernalia from events and talks that Mendieta gave, turning focus towards the artist as much as towards her work. While the show doesn’t reduce her to an icon, addressing issues in her life, marred by issues that remain relevant today, feels like a necessary next step.

There is, of course, the fact that these may overshadow the profound yet quiet meanings in her Siluetas, and so perhaps this was a wise choice after all. Indeed, as a survey of an artist’s work, this retrospective marvellously elevates Mendieta and her work to the level it deserves, giving Tate’s many visitors the revelatory experience of her work.

Ana Mendieta is on show at Tate Modern until 17th January 2027. For more information, visit their website.

Image credits: Ana Mendieta, Bird Run 1974. © The Estate of Ana Mendieta Collection, LLC. Licensed by Artist Rights Society (ARS), New York / DACS, 2026 / Courtesy Marian Goodman Gallery and Alison Jacques, London.