I was asked a few questions by a student journalist at City University London recently..

1) First of all can you tell me a little bit about your work? What themes do you explore in your art and why? What do you strive to achieve through it?

I basically just paint what I want, how I want. I have no social or moral message to give. I stopped selling paintings 18 months or more ago, with no intention to start selling again until I can no longer fit in my house, which has brought about a change in how I see painting. I’m now thinking more about conceptual art and looking at ideas more than thinking about who would buy a work.

2) Recently the Tate Modern was forced to remove Richard Prince’s piece ‘Spiritual America’ from its Pop Life: Art in a Material World exhibition due to a public protest. What is your opinion on the matter? Do you think the piece was justly removed?

I don’t know. We live in a sick world, so we have to draw the line somewhere with images of young people. Having said that, I wish we lived in a world that could see the images as innocent and beautiful. So, as much as I hate censorship, I’m not really sure how I feel about cases like this. The Australian photographer Bill Henson has dealt with similar issues.

3) Do you think art institutions should have the freedom to display boundary-pushing art that may offend certain members of the public? Why?

I think it’s their job to push the boundaries. People that are easily offended shouldn’t visit galleries. They should stay home in their safe, comfortable home and drink tea quietly. Art is either going to look good hanging on your wall or is trying to tell you something. Both forms are equally valid for me.

4) What do you think pushes an artist to create pieces that can cause possible public backlash? Is this a reaction to modern reality or just a means of getting publicity?

It’s both. Most artists by nature are outsiders and like poking sticks at insiders, it amuses them to no end. You could also say it is a sign of the times we live in where you are nothing unless you are the biggest, loudest or most annoying. Many shock artists probably just needed more hugs growing up. Damien Hirst has made a career out of it. His career has been so filled with “shock” that when he paints a relatively normal looking exhibition (like his current one) it is looked at as shocking.

5) What do you think is the social role of art?

I believe there are two kinds of art: an art that should hang well on the wall and an art that has something to say. The latter should use any means possible to speak its message.

6) What do you think are the major changes in the public’s attitude towards art? Do you think our modern society is quick at judging and finding offence in everything?

I don’t know. I don’t think art is really that important to the general public. Nobody really takes much notice of art unless an artist is doing something outrageous. Being an artist or being involved in the art industry tricks you into thinking that art is everything and everyone must appreciate it as it’s so important to you, but the average guy on the street couldn’t care less about art.

Artists like the fact that society is quick to judge and easily offended. Many rely on these facts and play to them.

7) Do you think that by challenging conventional views art can truly make a change in the public‘s perception?

No, I don’t think art has the fire power to affect change in any meaningful way. It will always touch the minority that actually takes notice of art, but art won’t change society unless you include movies, the internet, and music. Things like painting, sculpture, installations, prints, and video art will never change much of society.

It seems that contemporary art is increasingly aimed to disturb and art which is made purely for aesthetic pleasure seems idealistic and secondary (beauty is often considered kitsch). What do you think caused this? Why qualities like disruptiveness and the shock value became marks of success?

It’s the media age. It takes something loud, colourful and shocking to get our attention. A Giorgio Morandi still life would bore most people to death these days. Most people have forgotten how to sit still for any length of time. Silent stillness forces you to look at yourself and that scares most people.

9) In the Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie wrote “What is freedom of expression? Without the freedom to offend, it ceases to exist”. Do you think freedom of expression truly exists in our modern society?

Of course it doesn’t exist. We’re silly little immature beings that wouldn’t know what freedom of expression was if it punched us in the face. It’s nothing that a few hundred thousand years of evolution won’t fix though. Let’s just hope the earth will put up with us long enough to see us grow up.

Sonnet 44
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But, ah, thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that, so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time’s leisure with my moan,
Receiving nought by elements so slow,
But heavy tears, badges of either’s woe.

(Shakespeare)

One more thing: The bone in the film is a wishbone:

The wishbone, known in anatomy as the furcula, is a sternum bone found in birds which is shaped like the letter Y. It is used as an attachment point for the wing muscles. It is so named because of a tradition: Two people pull on each side of such a bone, and when it breaks, the one who gets the larger part is said to have a wish granted.

The mechanical sculpture in the film is by Arthur Ganson. Some of his stuff is really awe-inspiring. Check this Machine with Artichoke Petal #2

Of course, it may bring to mind other art machines (Rebecca Horn, but also manyothers), but what I really appreciate here is the simplicity. Modest art is something to be cherished. It also reminds me of some of the musical experiences by the Portuguese musician Nuno Rebelo:

Even the really simple ones are really something: Machine with Chinese Fan

Is it kitsch? I don’t care.
(via)

I can’t honestly say how useful this application is as I don’t own an iPhone, but it sounds like a good idea. It’s a free application (I believe there is also a pro version for a small fee) available from iTunes which guides you to art museums, exhibitions and galleries around the world. If it does what it’s supposed to do it would be a must have for art travelers.

“Admittedly, we are still missing lots of info, but already have over 12,000 artists and 2600 galleries in our system – but we can only be as good as the people who provide us the info… Anyway, we developed this tool to make navigating the art world easy and hope that more and more people are going to make use of it.” hopnear

Find out more about the artnear iPhone application at the hopnear website here or look for it in the iTunes store.

Just so you don’t think I’m ignoring you – check out some great projects by Marc Kremers:

• As found, a site with images found on the net… Fantastic.
• The wonderfuly anarchist Tex Server.
• And some of Marc’s animations can be found here.

So how was it for YOU?

Not all of Robert Grigolov’s work convinces me. Some of it seems like simple tricks pour épater les bourgeois. But isn’t part of the fun about discovering the value something has for you when taking out of a context which isn’t necessarily one you appreciate?

Why does the above installation have the title Dollar Bill? I don’t know. I have some ideas, but I don’t think I want to follow them. And, just as Daniel Pennac’s 10 Inalienable Rights of the Reader, so any spectator has similar rights, among them, to decide arbitrarily where the work begins and ends for her.

This doesn’t need to mean any sort of glorification of ignorance. However, it does accept it as part of the deal. After all, the spectator is no less free than the artist, is he?

This should be a very obvious question. Aesthetic relativism is something seemingly accepted. Yet the contemporary art world seems to specialize in “right” ways of looking at its creations.
Anything goes – yet there is still plenty of exciting space for dialogue. Tastes are indeed something we discuss and shape, aesthetic experience is a beautifuly shapeable thing. And yet one of the most difficult things is to stay within the play of common value-seeking and exploration of personal experience, and not move into the discourse of competence, the universe of authority, which might sustain a big chunk of what the contemporary art world is about, but is hardly enjoyable for those of us who like their artflesh stupendously raw and intimate.
(via)

Basquiat is my favorite movie about an artist.

It’s hard to make a good artist look interesting as they’re usually just working.

I sometimes wonder why? What’s the point? Why make art at all?

It’s usually only after days like today, days that are physically, mentally and emotionally draining.

Everything will be alright tomorrow.

Oh what jealousy of the physical difference! Of the outcasting cast out in flesh! Oh how simple the definitions then become. How meaningful in their ever-presence. What sort of a tragedy can there be when its shape is nothing? How do you give it shape? How do you translate it into something it is not?

All pictures are by Risk Hazekamp.

I’m susbcribed to a whole bunch of newsletters and am bombarded with all kinds of promotional emails, most of which I never open. But one that I always open is from Other Criteria. It is a collective of artists, pushing all kinds of limited editions, prints, and publications, but I really only look at what Damien Hirst is selling.

I find the man endlessly fascinating. How can a man that sells deckchairs and clocks still pull off auction sales like he does? I’m sure I’ll tire of him someday and hate him for what he’s doing to art, but that day hasn’t come yet. I still love him, even if I don’t care much for his art. I almost bought the Damien Hirst clock below, but I just bought a whole bunch of art supplies (why is cadmium so damn expensive?!), so my art budget has blown out this month.

Innocence Lost
Damien Hirst
2009
200 x 50 mm
Glass bottle with sauasge and alcohol

Innocence Lost, a glass baby’s bottle containing a pork sausage pickled in alcohol, makes foul, connotative paradoxes out of ideas of nourishment and nurture. Visually, the work is a reminder of Hirst’s formaldehyde pieces as well as the surreal performances of pantomime and Punch & Judy shows. It is at once humorous and disturbing.

The glass bottle is engraved with the edition number, Hirst logo and signature.
Price: £5,200.00

Large Spot Clock
Damien Hirst
2009
35 cm diameter
White powdered metal case and metal back
German Quartz movement

The clock uses Hirst’s popular spot paintings as its face, the front of which is printed with his signature and the Hirst/Hirst logo. The rear is printed with the Other Critera logo and the clock name.

Price: £475.00

The Other Criteria newsletter is really worth subscribing to, especially if you’re an artist that thinks art is precious or that art and commerce shouldn’t mix.

Here’s a recent work made by Julius Popp, a German artist:

And here’s a commercial product present since 1989:

Classic questions:
How much of the value is the originality of the project?
How much is there left for the concept? The execution? The richness of the universe that is being created? The “art codes”?
The bluff?
Should one stop/diverge a project upon realizing one is following another’s path too closely?
This latter question is quite recurrent among many of the artists I know. Some opt for stopping, while others simply don’t let go of their toy. After all, they say, isn’t it always mine in the first place? Unintentional plagiarism? So what? If you focus on what you are, on your own path, shouldn’t it always lead to an original work? In the best of possible worlds?