I hate Art. Because underpants.

I'm very fond of painting. Tell me there's an exhibition of landscape painting on down the road, and I'll get my coat.

Tell me there's an exhibition of 'thought-provoking contemporary art that challenges the status quo' *, however, and I'll give you a dirty look, smack your head in passing, and cross you off my Christmas card list.

It all started years ago when my artist friends took me to a gallery opening, where some guy did a performance piece which involved painting himself blue and prancing about in his underpants. I could forgive the less than stellar paintings, the junkyard sculptures, the grisly, dull, video installations, but this was a step too far.




Always with the underpants.

I don't like contemporary art. I think it has become little more than the retarded cousin of the fashion industry. To get me into a gallery showing it these days would take armed men or free drink, and more fuss than would be seemly.

Is there still a place for art, now that the avant garde is running down? Or is all the real talent already hunched over a Wacom tablet, working on the next big game release or movie?



Status Quo pic by Watt_Dabney on Flickr
* If you insist upon 'challenging the status quo', you obviously haven't cottoned on to the fact that you are the status quo. Don't be the status quo. Unless you're Status Quo.