For some reason lately, conceptual art has been everywhere. One friend linked on Facebook to this rather hilarious piece from some site called Vice, which pretty much sums up my thoughts on the matter.
“God, people that don’t get why this shelf full of car boot sale crap is meaningful are so crass and uncultured.” Imagine having to explain this exhibition to an alien or a medieval time traveler. Bet you can’t.
I might as well come right out and say it: I don’t think that conceptual art qualifies as art at all. I call bulls***. It’s total b*llocks. I pretty much came to that conclusion when I went on a school trip to the Tate and I saw what looked like a pencil stuck to a board on the wall. I realised that this was what was wrong with the world today: that you could nail a pencil to the wall and call it art. (In that instance, I then realised that it was a photorealistic painting of a pencil so real that I had to touch it to believe it wasn’t real, and was then awestruck by it, but if it had been a pencil nailed to the wall, well, that’s just b*llocks.) Continue reading