The Duke of Edinburgh asked a mobility scooterist if he’d knocked anyone over that morning – that was the headline and the story but a bigger story was concealed in the text:
In the grounds was a contemporary artwork by Damien Hirst – a Mini covered in coloured spots.
Hang on – this was meant to be art in the six decades of the Queen’s reign. This was the Best of British? Hockney perhaps but Hirst? Who the hell picked him? Same people who picked Tracey Vermin?
And seriously, a description of this “art”, of which Hirst’s NY toddlers drawing was one:
The real crux [is] the collision of the specific and the general here. That collision is not between artworks of different sizes, colors, and dates, but between one person—the artist—and society. The cold and cavernous room, with its hysterical shifts in scale and color, only demonstrated the former’s failure to master the latter. Allover abstraction is fundamentally monotonous. As Greenberg saw the painting he championed, the lack of a center, corners, and figure/ground relations embodied capitalism’s hyper-materiality. This “polyphonic” art was a vision of a world of either total democracy or total exchangeability, depending on your point of view.
What are these people on?