Article: Sharks, Zombies & Rotten Fruit AKA Fuck Modern-Modern Art

Apples and pears in a bowl are a staple of both a healthy diet and the kind of still life painting frequently seen decorating grannies' living room walls nation-wide. It’s the kind of picture that is commonly referred to by the elder members of our community as ‘real’ art. A ‘proper’ painting of something ‘nice’, not like the rubbish turned out by modern artists, all messy beds and people with no faces. Horrible. Didn’t that Emin woman know you can get nice bed spreads cheap this time of year in Laura Ashley? Something tidy and floral, with matching fitted sheets, and pillow cases with a frill. Some scatter cushions wouldn’t have gone amiss either, rather than all that nonsense; young people these days, eh?

So then, granddad, what do these sepia-tinged apples and pears represent to you? How do they make you feel? Who knew there were so many shades of brown? Do they tell you something about the artist? Yourself? The world? Or are they just a pile of bloody boring fruit in a bowl you stuck on the wall to fill a space?

The fact is, fruit has had its day; it is no longer culturally relevant, and so we need some new ideas. Art should reflect the zeitgeist, and the zeitgeist has very little to do with piles of apples, or oranges, or pears which are too hard to eat anyway. Sure, everyone buys them, but how many people actually eat them? And how many people, after contemplating eating an apple, actually eat a Mars Bar?

We live in frightening, chaotic times; ergo, we need frenzied and alarming art, something that could make our generation sit up and take notice. A case in point; a stroll around London’s Saatchi Gallery, following a typical family of four out on a day trip. While the parents marvelled at canvasses their two sons, aged around 10 and 13, looked positively catatonic. That was until they entered a Damien Hirst exhibition and spotted one of his most famous works; The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living. Was it the long, pretentious, unruly title that took them? Or the fact that their parents looked somewhat appalled and uncomfortable? Or was it to do with the piece itself? Whichever way you looked at it, a whole tiger shark suspended in a clear plastic box full of formaldehyde was always going to cause a reaction. The boys whooped and ran around the display in genuine awe. Hirst, no doubt, was aiming for that kind of emotional reaction; this was not a piece that would sit well on your grandparent’s coffee table, and neither was it meant to be.

The questions both Hirst’s sharks and Emin’s bed threw up were mainly along the ‘what is art’ route which is now as old as Ed Ruscha’s hills and is a debate that has been circulating as long as Kandinsky’s Colour Studies. As critic Ralph Rugoff said, we now commonly deal with work that ‘speaks in the confessional register of our talk show, docusoap culture… it deals with self-destructive behaviour and emotional hangovers, real life hard-luck stories to which most of us can identify with’, although how all this connects to giant fish in boxes only he knows.
Nevertheless, his point is valid; we easily look at art that contains films of war, pictures of violence and graphic representations of sex with little more than a raised brow, while tweed-suited critics mutter about the ‘cultural impact of the proletariat classes’ over their fourth ironically dry martini. What we must now deal with is not so much the ‘emotional hangover’, as the ‘modern art hangover’.

It is time, as the Clash once said, to ‘cut the crap’. Enough with the preserved animals, the neon lights and the autographing of objects that can be purchased in your local Homebase. All these things have been done. They were inventive and shocking the first time, but not any more; the repetition is slowly suffocating any shred of individualism they ever had with a big pillow marked ‘OOH, THAT LOOKS LIKE A GOOD IDEA.’ And, while we’re on the subject, will somebody please inform the young artists of Britain that the inclusion of tampons in a work doth not a masterpiece make. Feminine protection is not the way to glory, kids, so please, enough.

The main things turning Brit-art, as it was once called, into a laughing stock are big, dumb slogans that think they’re clever. Step forward Bob and Roberta Smith. This ‘politicised’ duo have previously gifted us stunning, insightful work in the form of thought-provoking collages, such as "David Aronavich [sic] is a wanker". Amusing, yes, but once the initial sniggers are got over the pieces soon begin to tediously reiterate the same 6th form politics over and over, with insults a five year old would find childish. Their latest exhibition in Gateshead's Baltic Gallery Help Build the Ruins of Democracy has been developed with visitors to the gallery, who have been invited to contribute their own texts and help create panels. Pearls of wisdom include 'Clare Short Blew It' and 'Tony Blair is a zombie of death'. Fair play, one of our esteemed political leaders does resemble the undead, and if he does reach power will the last people left in the country please not hoard the garlic, but somehow it doesn’t seem to either fit or adequately punish Mr Blair. Are we even meant to be laughing? The artists themselves consider the work to be communicating directly to the public in a language they understand, rather than communicating very little above abuse in colloquial vulgarities. Do they condescendingly consider swearing to be the only way to reason with everyday people about politics?

There's also plenty of the usual ‘socialist/communist’ rhetoric. But why does allegedly ‘socialist’, yet commercial, modern art always end up all about mud-flinging rather than discussion? Just like everything else, the mud-flinging and illiterate political insults have been done before, and to better effect. This constant campaigning must make these people must be hell to live with;

"So, what exactly is your art about?"
"This isn’t about art, it’s about socialism!"

or;

"Look, when are you going to tidy your bedroom?"
"I SHALL NOT TIDY MY BEDROOM UNTIL THE GREATER EVIL OF CAPITALISM HAS BEEN RECOGNISED AND THE ZIONIST STATE HAS BEEN CRUSHED! TO DO OTHERWISE WOULD BE RANK HYPOCRISY!"

Dumb that is clever does still exist; for proof go to www.subvertise.org and check out their mass of anti-everything situationist billboard graffiti, the kind that isn’t contained in a cosy air-conditioned government-funded gallery. Perhaps that is a little unfair on the artists. Perhaps they’re making the point that our culture does endlessly recycle the same words and actions into catchphrases. Do they realise they’re adding to the problem rather than highlighting it, causing our society to loose its inspiration, to become dull, boring and inert? A very similar state, in fact, to those damn apples.

[poprock]

It's easy enough to criticise modern art, but do you really think the likes of Subvertise are the answer? Your link isn't leading anywhere, by the way - their website seems to have died a death. There's a few images rescued here, but frankly most of those are reproduced from Adbusters... whom at least have the guts to admit that their parodies are not art, by any definition, but simply propaganda just like the original advertisments they hold a distorted mirror to.

If you think Bob and Roberta Smith's work is nothing more than tedious reiteration of sixth-form politics, then you have to admit that the likes of Subvertise fall squarely into the exact same camp. Using other people's voices to reflect the same lazy political platitudes about capitalism being bad and corporations being evil is about as sixth-form as things get, and until a person finds a voice of their own and stops parodying the creativity of others, then you'll excuse me if I don't consider it worthy of the name 'art'.

[Charlie Parker]

I'd rather look at apples in a bowl that some balloon's idea of 'rebellious' scrawlings on a wall.

[beshemoth]

Hee. "Balloon". Hee. I might have to adopt that one... oops sorry critical art discussion, I'm gone!

[poprock]

Miss_Rolos, I have a question. What was your point there? That current art isn't exciting you? That current popular art isn't? On re-reading your piece, I'm confused. You seem to praise Damien Hirst's The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, then lambast it a couple of paragraphs later. Something about repetition rendering such art impotent... but look back at yourself lauding the piece for managing to excite a couple of bored children. You might have seen it all before, but they hadn't. It was new, it was shocking, and above all, it was entertaining because of that. It brightened their day. Maybe that's simply because it was a fucking shark in an otherwise sombre gallery - but I'm betting the parents read the piece's title and stopped to think for a moment. I know I still do, every time I see it. The way the shark is not perfectly preserved, but is falling apart, ragged and tatty around the edges - it's succumbing to entropy the same way as the rest of us, despite Hirst and his team of technicians' best efforts.

I like the shark. I'll concede that there's a lot of shit in today's art galleries - but there are flashes of genuine transcendental fucking genius, too. A lot of art is rubbish - but the same is true of any cultural sector. A lot of music is rubbish, a lot of film is rubbish, and so on.

If you've succumbed to ennui and apathy after being exposed to so much of the crap that you can't feign an interest any more... then fair enough. But it'll be your own loss in the long run, as the few truly great pieces of work pass you by.

[Foxglove]

Ah the great art debate. What happened to, "I like it"?

At work, so no time to put any critical analysis on the article or comments at the moment, but I may do so in the comfort of my home when I next manage to have some time there.

[Miss_Rolos]

Originally Posted by poprock

Miss_Rolos, I have a question. What was your point there? That current art isn't exciting you? That current popular art isn't?

Current art that claims to be revolutionary annoys me, that when I hear 'Wow, it's so new' from critics I run out to see it, only to be confronted by yet another signed shelf from homebase, or more 'situationist slogans'.... Shocking isn't shocking anymore, like I said, I have a 'modern art hangover'...

I want to feel like those boys did about the shark, I want it all to be new again.

I actually want to close the modern art debate, too much talking makes things so stale. I liked subvertise because I hadn't seen anything like it before. But this article was written for a degree course a few months ago, & painting on walls is now leaving me cold.

I want someone to show me something that's going to make me sit up and gawp, a full-on mouth-wide, tongue-lolling gasp...

[poprock]

Originally Posted by Miss_Rolos

I want someone to show me something that's going to make me sit up and gawp, a full-on mouth-wide, tongue-lolling gasp...

I think that's bound to become rarer as our globally-connected multimedia world exposes us to more and more stimuli, though. In many cases, we really have seen it all before.

I've found myself drawn more and more to works that are just the best they can be, rather than looking for the shlock of the new. You mentioned Ed Ruscha's mountains - they drop my jaw every time I see them. I can spend hours staring wide-eyed at anything from that series. Damien Hirst, Andres Serrano, Marc Quinn, Julian Opie... they may have specialised in one-line jokes, but damn if they weren't good jokes. I feel genuine awe when I stand in front of an Andreas Gursky photograph - the sheer scale, the detail, the fucking emptiness...

I guess I'm repeating myself really. There's plenty of great works out there, just don't expect the popular media or the art establishment to push them up front - you've gotta make your own discoveries. I find that a visit to a major gallery leads to a half day of looking at stuff I think is pish, redeemed by coming across three or four pieces I'm stunned by. Those three or four make the visit worthwhile.

[Miss_Rolos]

Originally Posted by poprock

There's plenty of great works out there, just don't expect the popular media or the art establishment to push them up front - you've gotta make your own discoveries. I find that a visit to a major gallery leads to a half day of looking at stuff I think is pish, redeemed by coming across three or four pieces I'm stunned by. Those three or four make the visit worthwhile.

I don't know if all this ranting and dissatisfaction is a symptom of getting older.

Ruscha's mountains, Serrano's Pisschrist and Hurst's great big bloody shark seems a long way back, like some sort of golden age, when I was just getting into things. I was stumbling on them by mistake & that's what made them exciting.

I seem to be finding more & more that full days spent in galleries are yeilding nothing. I think I'm trying too hard to look for the thrill, those 'three or four pieces'... Thats what I'm complaining about.

So, I'm leaving art for a few months, I'm visiting no galleries, I'm reading no reviews, I'm looking at no websites, and hopefully curing the over-exposure that way.

I'm hoping that the next time I go to a gallery, I'll find something fabulous

[poprock]

Originally Posted by Miss_Rolos

I don't know if all this ranting and dissatisfaction is a symptom of getting older.

Ruscha's mountains, Serrano's Pisschrist and Hurst's great big bloody shark seems a long way back, like some sort of golden age, when I was just getting into things. I was stumbling on them by mistake & that's what made them exciting.

I agree completely with all of that.

Partly it's overexposure. It has to be. We're desensitized as we age, and we're harder to surprise. It's a proven fact that surprise, or a sense of 'new-ness' is integral to enjoyment. Pleasure decreases the more times an act is repeated - it's why old married couples suddenly develop an interest in kinky sex.

I don't think it was just to do with being new to the art world and those being the pieces kicking around at the time though - that'd be too much coincidence for me. I reckon that genuinely was a wee golden period, a brief point where popular taste coincided with some truly great work.

Ruscha is still doing mountains - did you see his massive retrospective in Edinburgh a few months ago? Even though they didn't have Baby Jet, it was still a hell of an experience.

I wandered around Tate Modern a few weeks ago, and found myself gravitating towards the same old stuff - the Rothko room, Opie's big wooden Volvo, Naum Gabo's huge metal head, and all that sorta jazz. Nothing new stuck out, but that's not what the Tate galleries are about. They're a greatest hits compilation, not a place to find exciting new acts.

I'd love to point you towards some good, local art shows - to say "Here it is," but I don't think I can. Glasgow's pretty damned starved of quality art right now, partly because the attention's all on Edinburgh and the Festival (not that I see anything startling featured this year)... Look out for the next Beagles & Ramsay show, maybe - they're Glasgow's current 'most likely'.