Mandy Mullet

Well, no more griping about The English Summer, as the nights are now getting longer and colder and its nice to sit around an open fire and read or… I know, write something in this blog on my laptop!

As there is nothing in particular to spur me on, I thought I’d just pick a topic at random and briefly write about it – that of the subject of art. Not just any old art, by the way as that would seem to be a little unfair for all the really great stuff that is out there, such as the fine art and classical masterpieces that enthrall, amaze and impress us all. Or even some of the sometimes way-out but still interesting and recognisable exhibits of abstract art that graces many an art gallery’s walls and often fills our world with shape and colour.

No, I’m only really going to poke an accusing finger at that strange excuse for art that turns up in galleries around the world and seems to attract the most publicity from the television stations.

Yes, that which most ordinary people shake their heads in disbelief at.

Unmade beds and piles of bricks, rubbish scattered across floors, light that go on and lights that go off… You know what I’m talking about. So the question that is on most people’s minds is “Is it art?”

Well, I don’t know about you, but I know what my own two eyes are telling me when I look at some of the entries for the Turner prize each year and the story of The Emperor’s New Clothes” springs immediately to mind. Are the people who claim that it is genuine art really in this world?

Or are they aliens from the planet Zod who have infiltrated the ranks of the gullible. Have they convinced them that a pile of dog crap is an art form? Have they created an aura of authenticity around a piece of cheese that a bloody rat has gnawed? I have to emulate the words of the infamous Victor Meldrew here and proclaim that “I do not believe it!”

Honestly, what is going on in the minds of these nut cases? Are they really so gullible as to be taken in by this garbage (literally, in some cases it would seem) and to even have the audacity to pay good money for it? I’m not talking a few quid either. Some of this landfill fodder goes for unspeakable sums.

Or maybe I and 99% of the real people in the populace have got it all wrong. Maybe we’re the ignorant grass chewing peasants that can’t see the true beauty in a dog turd. Or the graceful juxtaposition created in a bag of shopping and a ripped open dustbin liner with the putrid remnants of last week’s Sunday roast spilling out. Yes, that’s it! We’re the stupid ones for even daring to question the sanity of the art set who regularly come in their pants at the sight of an unmade bed!

How far can this tirade of sarcasm go before it starts to convince people that this blog post itself is actually an incredible new form or art that is worth at least a million quid of anyone’s money?  That’s right, get in the queue as the bidding has already begun… now what am I bid so far?

A button and a rubber tap washer?

Worth every penny!

Mandy Mullet