Not something that happens all that often. One of the most tedious experiences of my life was visiting G&G's acclaimed Nineties exhibition,The Naked Shit Pictures. Since then the artists have grown and grown, commercially speaking, that is. The New Statesman's Sue Hubbard visited the new Tate Modern extravaganza, and yawned:
To an extent, they are the Joe Ortons of the art world, only without Orton's wit. In works such as "Shitty Naked Human World" (1994), with its crucifix of four brown turds, and "Spit Law" (1997), which shows them bent over, baggy Y-fronts crumpled around their ankles to expose their bum holes, the artists are reminiscent of small boys behind the bike shed who think they are being ever so smutty when, in fact, they are simply being boring...
Gilbert and George's work is not objectionable because it is crude, raw, or in-your-face: many paintings by Picasso are cruel and ugly, and surrealism relished the profane and degraded. But with this pair, there is the suspicion that their fat bank accounts and international reputations are supported by the sycophancy of much of the art world. There is nothing real behind these works - no vituperative anger, no despair, no existential doubt, no love or passion - nothing, in fact, that makes art a meaningful and important human activity. That we accept it as great work worthy of such huge space at Tate Modern shows how lacking in confidence we have become about insisting that art should actually show what is painful, true and meaningful.
One of the(many) problems with G&G is that they are stuck in a Sixties timewarp. The patheticness of their belief that they are being brave and radical when they challenge - as they would describeit - the 'Church' is sad.
I'll believe in their bravery when I see them attempting the same against Islam. Yeah, they really stick it to the man alright.
Posted by: Recusant | Friday, February 23, 2007 at 03:22 PM