I just have to say...

I was recently fortunate enough to have a few words published in an arts magazine. It was a great chance to publically whine about things I don't like, so naturally I grabbed it.


I just have to say..

You know, I think I’m getting old. I say that because things that didn’t bother me before bother me now. I didn’t rant about them before either. For example, one of the things I love about art is the way you can communicate serious issues discreetly, under the guise of an aesthetically pleasing object.

Yes I know, all sorts of disclaimers should be inserted here about how I define “aesthetically pleasing”.

Or “Object”.

But I digress. I’m all for art that has a message. No one ever said (convincingly) that art always had to be easy. But it seems to me lately more artists are getting to the message bit and then forgetting to make it look good. If you want to explore the boundaries of your chosen art form, talk till you’re blue in the face about “slippage” (and then say the shade of blue is in reference to Ives Klein), and so forth, be my guest. But if the vehicle for these sentiments does not please my senses, I’d prefer to read your essay.
Because lets face it, the last time I punched someone in the face, he did not thank me for reaffirming the visceral nature of human existence and the impermanence of dental positioning. He just held his jaw and scurried off.
So for the sake of this old man, if you could just as easily write it down, do that instead. Heck, exhibit your beautifully crafted, Harvard-referenced two thousand-word artist statement. Because if I’m not going to appreciate your work without reading it (and the three obscure academic tracts you referenced in it) then it’s your statement that’s the real artwork, not the random assemblage of objects you found in your neighbour’s hard rubbish pile, smothered in an unidentifiable foodstuff and called an installation.

There. I feel so much better now.