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Posts Tagged ‘Damien Hirst’

Hirst; they think it’s all over- is it, now?

In Culture on January 12, 2012 at 1:00 pm

Damien Hirst has continued his druggie/pardee/easy-teasy relationship with the unfortunate non-Damien Hirst World this week by – as is his want? – TAKING OVER.  He has gone smotheringly, ballistically wider and in your facier than his previous bigtime best, by commandeering space in 11 Gagosian galleries around the world simultaneously.  As always with the regal brit-popper, beneath this cultural blitzkrieg there is that subversive prickle within the detail – some of the works being provocatively titled, with hallucinogenic associations

Paintings being exhibited are entirely appropriate to the Hirst-obsession with WHAT THE MARKET WILL TAKE.  So this current ruse of (imagined?) flooding or testing our/THE MARKET’S capacity to engage is what it’s about.  As much as the paintings are.  Again.  Arguably.

This may on the one hand be a perfectly acceptable creative response, honourably reflecting Hirsts’s entirely legitimate and punkily energised worldview; (that) the Art Market is obscene/absurd/necrophiliac and it must be defrocked, demystified and disembowelled in a creative and entertaining way.  Or it may be another lazy spin of another formula designed at the Hirst Ruse Emporium, centreing again on his own importance; or does it challenge that too?

Hirst knows that the scale of the project and of his celebrity tanks these paintings in formaldehyde.  Indeed if a shocking generalisation were to crop up here it might be that Hirst’s ouevre is relentlessy concerned with his knowingness.  But in my view it would still be foolish to underestimate either his integrity or his concern with the making of worthwhile art.  Thus my own sloganeering is more in sympathy than in irony.

Interestingly, Adrian Searle in today’s Guardian seems clear that there is no discernible benefit to looking at these paintings as individuals – suggesting I think that this offers little reward, or no individual unique viewing experience, even though they are hugely different in dimension and subtly different in colour(s).  I disagree.  (If you are unaware of the nature of the paintings, now might be the time for me to tell you that they are all ‘spot paintings’ – arrangements of coloured dots along an imaginary grid system.  ‘Traditionally’, they are the kind of (arguably) abstract or conceptual painting that might demand a degree of contemplation from the viewer.)

I think the artist may argue that it is a travesty to suggest these paintings are in any way ALL THE SAME.  I think, however, that he seeks to lever out that very response, at whatever level, from his punter.  Hirst is standing again on the chest of the Market, crow-barring open its ribcage for fleeing or inveigling opinions – offensive or otherwise – to worm a way in or out.  The paintings – all made by assistants, I believe – are both a challenge as an understood group AND as individuals AND as a relevance (or otherwise.)  They are not to be dismissed without due consideration because that is a purpose of all art; to demand or engineer consideration.

So look at these paintings.   Allow yourself to feel them.  Is there anything there for you?  If so, what?  Have fun trying to work that out!  If nothing alights, firstly look some more then consider whether they make a contribution – uplifting/degrading or bland or quietly humming? – to an individual moment, or to an easy or a teasy conversation you might have… after too much wine, or some drugs maybe, at a noisy metropolitan party.

Saatchi and me…

In Culture on December 14, 2011 at 2:32 pm

Is the currently invigorating air of free-market/un-market revolution swirling and beeping its way into the contemporary art scene, I wonder?  Is it even being blackberried by its very own, from within its very own hub, rather than from without, by militant techno-geeks or the Urban Poor?   What, in fact, is occurring bro’?

If Charles Saatchi (himself) is sending out the incendiary messages – whilst presumably firing up on latte and danger-muffin in some metropolitan caff – then maybe, on this occasion, the New Disillusioned are superfluous.  The art scene may implode without recourse to occupation/immolation from uncutters or black blockers or almostinnocentbystanders.com.

Those of you who missed the minority interest hoohaa not kicking but maybe shuffling off last week following Saatchi’s Guardian article please sign on here; for another thoroughly modern story is being (un?)told.  Here is the alleged figuration thing … the facts as recognised or… performed.

The boy Saatchi – actually too super-annuated to be coolly associated with rebellion, despite his impressive record for supporting Wacky New Stuff – has really launched one, really gone off on one against his fellow contemporary art enthusiasts.  (And frankly – good on ‘im!)  The essence of what he says is that being a buyer amongst the current crop is “comprehensively and indisputably vulgar”.

He goes on

It is the sport of the Euro-trashy, hedgefundy Hamptonites; of trendy oligarchs and oiligarchs; and of art-dealers with masturbatory levels of self-regard.

He goes on again

Do any of these people actually enjoy looking at art? … Do they simply enjoy having easily recognised big-brand-name pictures, bought ostentatiously in auction rooms at eye-catching prices, to decorate their several homes, floating and otherwise, in an instant demonstration of drop-dead coolth and wealth?

It is, therefore a pretty spiky appraisal of those he rubs shoulders with.  Surprisingly, I have no direct contact with either Mr Saatchi or the average oiligarch, so please take any remarks I contribute with a substantial pinch of something that may or may not be actual salt or a symbol of salt.

However, Charles and I are alike in that we do have a certain general respect for contemporary artists, whilst knowing that this goes against the grain of popular understanding.  He has I think genuinely supported – arguably ‘made’ – substantial British artists such as Hirst and Emin through a belief that they say something real and important about now as well as because of their capacity to excite coverage.  He (no doubt having read my authoritative material on the subject) fully understands the difficulty many folks have with Modern Art; namely that they just don’t get it because it either doesn’t look like what it’s supposed to or ‘any fool could do it’.

Saatchi has put a considerable wedge behind the argument that c’mon, you just really have to look – engage – a bit more and other things become apparent.  For art is no longer (just) about how masterfully you can draw or paint.  It may now be the case that is essential to enter the construct that is the painting/photo/video/performance in order to make judgement upon it.  This might admittedly be more ‘difficult’ than was historically the case but THAT IS PROGRESS.  You, the viewer, have been having it too easy and you may now have to a) gawp for longer and b) even earn the right to make a decision about the artist’s talent and authenticity.

Okay I’m offering a lot given my unfamiliarity with Charles’s everything but these are surely logical extensions, or possibly prefixes, to where he ends up – i.e. IN DEFENCE OF THE REAL ARTIST – who may, surprisingly, be alive now, making art through signs or symbols or soundscapes rather than with lines we immediately recognise.

It may be argued that a leap of faith is necessary to accept some contemporary art as ‘real’, as ‘true’.  That’s maybe fair.  However it has always been the case that critical faculties must be exercised in order to appreciate.  Allow the artists to work.  Do not mistake lack of figuration for lack of quality or integrity.  Contemporary artists are making a massive and honourable contribution to our cultural lives – to our lives.   That’s not a quote from Charles Saatchi but I tell you what I think it could be.  And that’s why the presence of so many wealthy airheads on the floors of major gallery openings offends him.

Saatchiandme.co desperately oppose both the cheap assumption that contemporary art is mainly crap and the notion that it’s okay for the inevitable art market to be populated by phonies.  We are together on the barricade – his a Sheraton Bureau, mine a shopping trolley – lobbing respectively cut glass and potato peelings at the barbarian hordes.  Shouting “Love Not Money!”

So… in this cultural riot… are you with us?

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