A friend of ours was at a major art fair in London last week where she witnessed such works of genius as a $20,000 bag of urine, and a glass of water on a glass shelf entitled: “Oak Tree”. Clearly art has reached a stage of conceptuality (that’s not a word) that means everything is art if someone says it is and provides an overwritten manifesto extolling it’s creative merits. The boundaries have seemingly been bent so far out of shape that they can’t really be called boundaries anymore. They’re more like chalk outlines where something died a long time ago.
But what do I know? In the words of a former boss: not a lot. All I know is, if I had the credit, I’d fill my house with stuff by Mauro Peruccheti. It’s sexy, great looking, and just political enough that normal people would find you really clever. What do you guys think?