Save The Arts (And Us!)

The last few days or so (how many days is a 'few days or so'? - we're pitching for about 11.4) have seen a load of famous, profound, influential, but most importantly famous artists pitch a case that the arts need to be saved from some evil monsters or similar. Why wouldn't they. If the arts aren't saved, they don't exist. Or their jobs don't exist, something like that.

We're in a similar position. Without the arts, the need to kick-art-ass dwindles significantly. (Or, due to a lack of funds, the quality of art drops significantly, more bad art exists and our job becomes all the more invaluable. But let's not take that risk)

This campaign started with David Shrigley, saw some day-glow texted posters, and most recently saw Mark Wallinger do a thing. Many more have signed a petition. We've never been one for petitions in the past. But seeing as it only takes a couple of seconds to do, even if (like all the petitions we ever did before) it doesn't mean a whole load nor go anywhere, it's worth the punt.

We've conjured up an idea which will physically demonstrate our love for the arts. Our contribution to the efforts. We're growing arts-cuts-protest-beards. And we suggest that you do the same. Pass on this information to everyone you know and love. Here are some celebrities who thus far have shown their support:

Zach Galifianakis

Santa Claus

Religion Man

Sadly, Joaquin Phoenix has shaved off his beard having heard the news due to his vast hatred of the UK arts scene. Though it is a safe bet to assume that everyone you see from this moment onwards wearing a beard has joined our fight against cuts in arts funding. We look forward to seeing your beards, compadres!

You need to see this.

What could be more a representation of artistic perfection than a shoddy painting of some famous celebrity chefs having a roadside picnic? You may spot a few familiar faces in this phenomenal use of the worlds resources. Look out for your favourite here, chilling out in this delightful scene available for the bargain price of about a grand. It's literally got all the greats. In the photo we managed to crop out Keith Floyd (which we promise isn't because he's dead) sitting in the corner as close to Nigella Lawson as we all dream of. Oddly, Jamie is the only one who seems to want to cook. Though don't think too hard about that, because what is truly amazing is how the artist has managed to capture perfectly the shininess of Ainsley Harriott's head.

These are all witty observations, naturally, and it's easy to poke fun at a playful picture. The serious issue here is why Gordon has been segregated and confined to the other side of the road. Why? Perhaps because he is Scottish. Perhaps because he so persistently swears. The constant clapping of his hands to draw attention to himself like an ADHD child full of lemonade and skittles. Maybe because as the artist seems to have captured, because he is having a stroke. His dreadful wig? We don't know. But we definitely, absolutely 100% love this painting. It's fun. Good fun.

Well, that is if you excuse the tree (which you may see if you squint hidden in the shadow at the left) which has an unforgivably straight bottom.

Martin Creed Vs. The Expendables.

Last week we got called in to check out a couple of things to see if they deserved to be in the world. Firstly, on Thursday we saw The Expendables by Sylvester Stallone. Then on Saturday we ventured up the UK to see Martin Creed's new show at Fruitmarket in Edinburgh. Both of these returned highly positive results on their respective testing devices (an art detector and our brand spanking new filmometer). This provoked us to have a little think. If you look at The Expendables as an expression of how one man wanted his work to be simultaneously ludicrous, hilarious, and riddled with moments where it undoes itself, it's sort of like how Martin likes to flow. Likewise, Mr Creed often describes what he shows as a collection of failures, attempts to make something like he used to (when he was a child), and doesn't quite cut it. The Expendables? A load of failures, nailed together, still not reaching either their goal to be an homage to the past, nor what the creator wanted them to be? Never.

Maybe.

Naturally, all of these coincidental similarities are ridiculously contrived (and nonsensical).

But we loved both The Expendables and the Martin Creed show at Fruitmarket. And in the absence of a real reason to explain why we like both, we'll settle for what we just made up on the spot right there.

We've been thinking...(since we learned how to)

Our massively important work requires that we wander about shows and creative happenings a fair amount. We've met a lot of artists, curators, directors, whatever and realised that to meet one/some/any of these people and introduce yourself as similar immediately throws up problems. Seeing as our work effectively renders us to some extent or another all of these things, despite having machines which are 100% accurate, sometimes a degree of hostility is thrust our way. It likely has something to do with an assumed equality, an implication that we have the reputation to call ourselves what we do. Either way, here's an illustration to help you imagine that feeling we often encounter;

Luckily, we know we're great and we freaking love it, it keeps us on our toes so bring it on!

The Terminal Bar at TROVE

The most recent show at TROVE was pretty intense, this time curated by Morgan Quaintance as opposed to the usual Trove-y duo. What we saw can best describe like this;

...but black and white. We had to use double strength art detecting fluid due to the vast number of images on display. And we're pleased to announce that it got a midway-between-decent-and-awesome in all our tests.

1970s o'clock.

We just got in from a pretty intensely hot scanning at Ikon Gallery. Well, actually, we got in about 2 hours ago. And we might have stopped off after Ikon at the pub. But aside from that we we went to the opening of Ikon's 'This Could Happen To You'. We're not so sure it could, not without a time machine anyway, and although we have one, it's a little dusty and rusty, so we'll stick to the point. The show was pretty fine. It refers to the birth of Ikon in the 70s, possibly from some kind of gigantic artistic gallery womb-come-mothership. Here's a picture of two of our operatives closely examining the show;

Now at this stage there are two possible conclusions for you to choose from. We suggest tossing a coin to decide which. So

Heads - Most of our agents weren't alive in the 70s - Who was?! And in that respect, what we saw was the perfect example of art from the time. Great!

Tails - Pretty sure that if this had been a true representation of the 70s the pieces would've been mounted atop much more hideous walls than at Ikon.

The show runs till some time in the future. Go. You've probably stopped reading by now anyway, but it's alright, really, quite alright.

Book Show at Eastside Projects.

We spent quite a while writing a complex and reasoned discussion as to why our detectors gave Book Show (or BOOK SHOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! as they seemed to prefer shouting on the website) at Eastside Projects a marginal fail. We then stumbled across a book which expressed it better than we ever could. Here it is;

As much as initial long review would have been suitably tedious and in that way reflective of the show, we opted on this occasion to use literature to convey our point. Something it feels Eastside Projects didn't bother with.

Don't get too down about it though arts-fans, we saw a super show just around the corner. A review is winging its way towards you.