The Rambler :: blog

Thursday, May 27, 2004

That Fire. 

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Jonathan Jones makes some very good points on the Saatchi warehouse fire. Including the following:

"British art in the 1990s insisted on the here and now, never caring much about the future and perhaps never destined to exist there. In a way, this might be its best fate - to go up in a blaze of glory, never having to be exhibited in some provincial museum in 30 years' time, as dull as most 1960s pop looks today, to embarrass and bore our children. Now it can be remembered in the same way as James Dean - forever young; forever new. Wasn't that what everyone wanted?"

OK, he acknowledges that this is irresistible exaggeration, but it's always somehow comforting to see the romance and the mythology being built up, right from the start. The ritual of mourning, I guess. And I for one agree. I never saw the Chapman's Hell (in fact I've only seen a few of their pieces), and until yesterday although I knew it was a great piece I never got as far as missing it. Now I do, and it feels like a loss.

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