I don't get modern art. Or at least the majority of it. Like an old stick-in-the-mud who thinks you can't legitimately be in a band if you can't sing or play an instrument, I am of the opinion that you can't really be an artist if you can't paint or draw.
To me, sticking a blob of Blue-tac to a wall (as Turner Prize nominee Martin Creed did in 2001) or leaving your underwear on a bed (a la Tracy Emin) or cutting up a cow and shoving it in formaldehyde (as Damien Hirst did) is not art. It's just a bit horrible.
Whatever happened to the Leonardo da Vincis, the Michelangelos and the Caravaggios? Is it pure laziness that prevents artists from spending days, months and years slaving over those photo-like paintings or is it completely financially unviable?
Perhaps photography made the whole process pointless or maybe the simple fact is that I am just terribly old-fashioned.
Perhaps I am just being deliberately obtuse but I like paintings — ones that have intricacies I don't think I would be capable of doing myself.
What is the point of art if it isn't pretty or if you could do it yourself?
I suppose the argument would be that modern art makes a statement or has some kind of thought-provoking notion behind it. But all I can think when I look at an unmade bed is how ashamed Emin's gran must be.
I went to an art university (studying journalism, I hasten to add). I met some talented people.
One guy already had a PhD in medical science and had abandoned the idea of becoming a doctor in favour of art.
He spent hours, days, weeks and months scribbling biro on to a huge sheet of canvas. I couldn't help but think what a terrible waste it was, until I stood back at his exhibition and saw within the doodling an incredibly life-like face. It was unbelievable.
But for every one of him, there were 100 lazy art-school types, who just liked the idea of getting up at 2pm, cutting up an old car tyre for a couple of hours and then going out all night with their friends.
This is what I believe the majority of modern art is about.
Believe me, I'm all for having a good time but let's not try and pretend that it's any more intellectual than scribbling on the wall with wax crayons. It's the snobbery of it that riles me.
Modern art may be fun but most of it is pointless. Please don't pretend it's taking a political stance or commenting on the delicate balance of life and death. Let's see it for what it is — a dead, pickled thing.
Art is a big in-club and they're all having a laugh every time somebody with too much desire to be considered interesting falls for the trick and buys a piece of art that wouldn't look out of place in a rubbish skip.
Why not cut out the middle man and divert your apartment's garbage into your front room? I am taking commissions now.
