Damien Hirst can you................ can you spot me now
don't get me wrong I love Damien Hirst
but this is a bizarre situation. I always wanted to spoon with him admired his ass and his recklessness. I would have forgiven him fore a herd of calf’s in formaldehyde but spot paintings everywhere. We got the joke the first time and it was somewhat lame like a British dick. and you know that crazy Japanese woman did it so much better and did it all her self. So these dots give me gas.
Anyhow they have become priceless objects. And have out done Warhol’s soup cans for sure.
I get Art I get Damien both are kind of like an obnoxious child that wants attention even if it is for misbehavior.
So I read about the out cry about outsourcing of artistic labor even if it happens in a castle.160 to be exact and they also make coffee and clean up to keep the art blue chip clean.
Staring at 462 spots gives me shifty eyes not unlike its creators. So is Damien a creator does he have a creative bone in him or is he just a good taste maker a hyper. It doesn't matter and he is for sure a bit of it all the clown the genie and the morbid self saboteur.
11 Gagosian galleries across the world coordinated this spot-ackle for us to judge by displaying 3oo plus out of supposedly 1500 and I had thought at one point they had burned up in a storage fire. I guess that was just a publicity stunt.
At least Murakami did little symbols & faces. The spot is spot on and challenges our short attention span. We don't have to think but are able to enjoy the interplay of colors.
“I mean it does nothing for me” spots don't please me or arouse me like sharks do. That's why these paintings are so good as a marketing ploy they arouse a scandal for their triviality. Like the bad boy has changed his spots and still wants to be a cleaned up kind of gentrified wild guy. He doesn't want to have to die for his art to give it value so to speak.
Lot's of thought has gone in promoting this so labeled thoughtless art. Of course their is a hidden code in these just like in Richter's squares something highly mysterious that will only be deciphered hundreds of years from now; like we are still trying to figure out what Mona Lisa's smile means or meant or means to us or will mean in the future to others.
Okay there is nothing there or like Gertrude Stein would say "there is no there there" but I had found myself imagining one of these painting above my white couch and decide that they do break the realm of sterility into compartments of joy.
So again like so many times its not about what we look at but about how we look at it. The way I look at it is that they are perfectly well suited to look good on some very rich persons wall.
And because I have a blind spot for jealousy I don't give a hounds ass.
If you want a more in-depth critic go read this