Art, like morality, consists in drawing the line somewhere.

There's another art installation in the courtyard below my window at work. Wouldn't you know it, it's another mediation on man's inhumanity to the environment! But really, is there any other kind of art installation in the year 2008? It seems to me that whoever out there accrediting Salamanca artists insist on some "man's inhumanity to the environment" component on public displays these days.

I have an idea that I think could be successful: convict built courtyard, two heavy timber posts set into the ground, set in an 'X' arrangement. Get yourself one typical Salamanca artist (not hard to spot, any anaemic-looking vegan in a beret with bad facial hair should do). Strap said artist to the posts and whip them liberally with a cat-o-nine-tails!

No convinced?

The masterstroke is that the person doing the whipping will be dressed as a penguin/bilby/southern right whale! You see, the penguin/bilby/southern right whale will be extracting revenge for the damage caused by man's inhumanity to the environment!

Comments

Miles McClagan said…

"Salamanca artists insist on some "man's inhumanity to the environment" component on public displays these days."

Boss - I'm going to stack a Salamanca courtyard with Nickelback albums...I can think of greater representation of this artistic point...

20 November 2008 at 22:34

USelaine said…

But. But. I like this installation.

21 November 2008 at 15:47

Diederick Wijmans said…

I am totally with you!!

21 November 2008 at 19:17

Kris McCracken said…

Miles, Nickelback: the Live of the naughties...

USelaine, I don't mind the look of it either, but sometimes I do wonder what ever happened to actual talent in an art. If it's all about contstructing some elaborate bullshit, I could well be the world's greatest artist!

Blognote, great!

28 November 2008 at 09:33

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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