Art (generally) excites me, it lifts my spirit.. I like being around it, for no apparent reason I just do. And I know that isn’t consistent in all people which makes it special, and something that should be explored at least.. but that’s not the vibe I get from modern art.
I remember one of the last things I did at art college was to write a particularly rancorous essay on Tracy Emin’s bed; which contained the passage “Just because you take something out of context it does not make it art! This isn’t art, it’s just a shit up room! Being unhygienic is not art!’ etc… it went on.
Tracy Emin’s bed went on to be considered for the Turner Prize in 1999, it didn’t win, but did successfully make me question if was right for the art world, modern art was being thrust down our throats at art college.
How could I aspire to creating something I saw no skill in? There was no talent in these works.. just an object or collection of objects taken out of context with a bullshit back story.
I also cannot get on board with the concept that a piece is art, simply because it evokes strong emotion.. pieces that are fundamentally at odds with what I consider to be true art, which took a level of skill some modern artists could only dream of, are not art just because they infuriate me.
A prime example is Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain 1917. It’s a urinal.. if I need to say more we (my dear reader) are on very different pages..
I left art college shortly after a careers day during which artists came and spoke to us about the potential career we might have after our studies. I had selected fine art, I wanted to paint like the greats, I adore impressionism Van Gough’s Starry Night, turners ‘Rain, Steam and Speed’ 1844 and George Stubbs Whistle Jacket is the piece that inspired me to take the fine art route in particular.. But the lady who should have fuelled my passion for art and cemented by desire to succeed in the industry dashed my hopes by declaring she didn’t make any money from art.. she does it for the love of it. Which is admirable of course but doesn’t pay the mortgage, so I left.
Fast forward 17 years and my work has bought me back to London. I have the mortgage I desired but I want to rekindle my affection for the art world, take a fresh look at it with an older (wiser) pair of eyes and a level of open mindedness which was beyond my capacity as a rage filled teenager.
I’m surrounded by the galleries I loved to run around as a student, the National in particular. But when I heard Damian Hurst had opened a gallery I got a little over excited.. But that’s modern art! I hear you say.. yes.. I’m fully aware of this, but I’ve been to one of his exhibitions and was thoroughly impressed by the techniques he used. There was a level of skill involved, not just a bullshit back story.. I’ll revisit that exhibition later in the blog, but for now take away the fact that it opened my mind to the concept of enjoying modern art (rather than it simply enraging me).
So I went along to the Newport Street Gallery and it inspired this blog.
I was quite frankly shocked at how much I enjoyed it.. So I intend to persist, I shall visit the many galleries on my doorstep and reach a considered opinion on my view of modern art.. If I truly don’t like it or just didn’t fully understand it. Perhaps I will get drawn into the bull shit back stories or maybe you will just get to read another embittered essay about how modern art takes no skill.
We shall see…
(not a fan of) modern art blog 