Antony Gormless produced this monstrosity in the 90s:
It sits atop a hill near Gateshead in the north-east, not unlike the heinous wind turbines blotting the horizon up and down the land and cannot be unseen.
Much favoured by the left in Labour or LibDem form, the new style is held to be just the last word in chic, super-expensive for tax or rates payers, naturally.
And so, in that spirit, we come to the Z Man article:
… where he makes the case that if art imitates life, we’re in some trouble. I made the counter-case, which is Wilde’s to a point, that Life in fact goes on to imitate Art:
… and there is that Wilde quote:
“Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life.”
To which the noble Chuckles replied:
God forbid. Firstly, much of what passes for art is manifestly not, and the modern age suffers from the inability of many to understand that reality takes precedence over the narrative which they believe to be reality.
At which haiku referred us to Tarantino and Chuckles added:
[The Z Man] circles round the childlike viewpoint and perspective. I always had a problem with Tarantino’s movies because of it. Particularly when it became less childlike and became more a sneering at the rubes who ‘would watch any old s**t that I produce’.
Which brings us, of course, to Hirst:
The Times, in its article, could not in the least see how this creature and its creator were and still are, a la Tarantino, spitting on the people of the land, set up as the monstrosity is in full public view, not able to be unseen, for both those approaching England and also spitting upon all who live in the country, for young and for old, including those who paid with their lives defending that shoreline.
Combine this with Khanistan and similar up and down the country and this is Tarantino on steroids. Who authorised this? Who? Who authorised this sicko’s wombs in a row in Qatar? Muslims actually like that excrescence?
The Z Man was at least right in writing:
Another aspect of art is it tempts the person experiencing it to think about things they may not be naturally inclined to consider.
Precisely – it provides a warped ‘reality’ which people who see it go on to consider reality [just look at self-drive cars and AI].
Anyway, this sort of ‘art’ might be fine within a Tarantino movie theatre where the audience are clever, chic adults who have proven their age or even an art gallery where aficionados can go and see a Hirst revulsion in private and congratulate each other on their ‘taste’ … but to assail everyone with it in public, in broad daylight, is no way in order, it crosses a clear boundary of decent taste but far, far worse in my eyes – it’s just very bad ‘art’. Brutalism writ large.
And if public moneys are used in any way, shape or form to abet such like, then the perpetrators need to be arrested along with Rotherham Council and brought to book.
As the Z Man illustrates, without specifically looking at that heap of metal, the pregnant teen overlooking the sea very much tells the young that that is the reality and it’s not for nothing that various British towns are known as Pram City. Before even getting to the abortion issue.
What these pretend artists are doing is in fact accelerating the demise, the fall into brutalism by inserting twisted realities as realities … for a mass audience across the land.
And what is then produced are people who think Helvetica is a really neat font or that the gaudy skirts around the old wooden Cutty Sark are some sort of improvement. How can one deal with that sort of taste? That sort of mind?
Compare the horrible Hirst things to the Matvei Manizder bronzes at the Moscow Metro – political public art? Yes, political. But still very much dynamic art:
Those two questions again:
1. Public decency
2. Quality of the art
Life then truly begins to reflect art. Perfect example is 50s film and how it affected design when the space race began. Even today, people are still thinking in terms of flying saucers for UFOs but then other considerations come in, factors such as good engineering.
But what happens when good engineering starts to rule? This for example, the Corsica Daimler Double Six Drophead Coupe 1931:
… is replaced by the pregnant pasties they call cars today – unicars, to fit with the Uniparty and unithink brutalism of the modern day.