Greek mythology is normally pretty messed up, but the tale of the Minotaur takes it to a new level. Born after King Minos’ wife got knocked up by a Bull sent from the Gods, the half human half beast was locked in a labyrinth and fed on human sacrifice. This reign of terror ended when Theseus killed the beast with the help of Ariane, who he then left marooned on an island whilst buggering off with her sister, and consequently caused his father to accidentally commit suicide.

This tale of woe has provided the ideal cornerstone to a new, experimental, exhibition for the Lazarides art group in combination with Pret A Diner. Set in the vaults of the Old Vic Tunnels beneath Waterloo station, the idea is to merge the world of art with that of fine dining to create a unique all encompassing experience under the theme of the Minotaur myth. However, if you’re a student and your budget doesn’t really stretch to Michelin Star food, the exhibition is fully accessible minus the meal.

Even before entering the, the mood was already well set. Upon approach, the only clue to its whereabouts is a solitary sign pointing towards a non-descript door covered in graffit, hidden in a back alley. Inside, you are given a map, and proceed through a black curtain to enter the first room. The atmosphere within the tunnels is incredible – it feels damp, disused and eerie, with smoke hanging thick in the air, and lighting obscured by rusting metal objects. This is accentuated on the first piece that you arrive at: a mess of hanging metal and whirring fans hanging from the ceiling. It’s uncomfortable viewing for reasons you cannot quite fathom.

It’s the perfect embodiment of art at its most uncomfortable

This theme of unease is carried out through the whole exhibit, where the setting itself acts like a maze of art. It is such an unusual feeling to walk through a darkened doorway to be physically surprised at what you encounter. The most shocking examples of this come in the form of David Falconer’s incredible sculptures formed from hundreds of bodies of rats, or the mournful crucified Minotaur by Atma, covered in nails and surrounded by candles.

However, the real heart of the exhibition is Stanley Donwood’s corrugated iron labyrinth, nestled at the centre of the tunnels. Radiohead’s official artist, Donwood is the perfect embodiment of art at its most uncomfortable, and this piece is no different. A twisting and turbulent structure that you are forced to enter, it embodies claustrophobia, driving you forward through its tightly turning tunnels. Combined with blood red paint daubed over the posters plastered on the walls, and splashes of fluids only seen in occasional UV lighting, this creates a truly haunting experience, hinting at an unseen terror.

Minotaur is one of the few times that I’ve found the location has proven as interesting as the art itself, in some cases possibly overshadowing the more contemporary pieces, such as the work on the perfect form and genetics. It also could be said that whilst the idea of combining the experience with a restaurant was novel, it could also prove to be distracting: drunk and laughing guests remove some of the intended oppressive atmosphere. However, these are small detractions from an exhibit that truly sets itself in an entirely different league to most galleries.

The Minotaur has since finished at the Old Vic Tunnels