Nine Out Of Ten Owners

On returning to the office after my gloriously hot and sunny late summer break through the grey and oddly quiet streets of London today, I was greeted by a mixed bag of mail ranging from unsolicited product information and samples to disappointingly poor and over optimistic cv’s and invites to gallery functions. Whether my mood was affected by the standard of job seekers promotional documents or post holiday blues I’m not one hundred percent sure but what struck me was the standard and prices of the wares being exclusively made available to me at this or that artists champagne reception.

I’m from the era where my early art experiences and expectations were set by watching the TV programme ‘Vision On’ hosted by the Fatherly figure of Tony Hart, which I believe was later revamped as Take Hart and Hart Beat. In between all of the nonsense chatter and animation sat the all important Gallery. This is where kids young and old got to send in their potato printing masterpieces for airing on national TV. This was the point where you the viewer had the opportunity to turn art critic. I remember watching with my little brother and making instant judgements based purely on whether we thought it was good for the age of the budding Michelangelo or whether we felt a dabbling parent had a hand in the potential award winning entry of little Darren, six and three quarters from Hemel Hempstead.

It’s with the same potato print trained and aesthetically honed eye that I look upon the supposed unique arts and crafts that are offered to me by these London galleries from the glossy pages of their catalogues and invites. Only now in my art critic mind the ages have been replaced by value as the benchmark representing good, bad or indifferent. I still judge the items on whether I feel I could do better but now instead of, ‘good effort for a five year old’ its changed to, ‘ten Grand, are you kidding?’ But they’re not kidding. Someone has decided that this explosion of colour which to me looks like the random paint spills on the surface of an artists workbench has the same value as a small family saloon.

Now I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of all things aesthetic and let’s face it people have paid me for close to thirty years for my abilities as an aesthlete. (Is that a word? Well it should be). So I must be doing something nearly right. I was even lucky enough to be tutored by Denis Bowen a leading light in the British contemporary abstract art world, in fact his work can be viewed in the Tate Modern. So I guess what I’m trying to justify here is that I understand that’s its not just about pretty, it’s not just about shock and it’s not that it’s rubbish just because it doesn’t happen to be to my taste. But the vast majority of what’s placed in front of me as outstanding thought provoking and technically proficient arts and crafts is in my humble opinion, nothing more than commercially focused decoration.

But and it’s a big but. The appreciation of art, crafts and design is all about the individuals very personal likes and dislikes. It’s all subjective. While nine decision makers in the room absolutely love your design the tenth may absolutely detest it. Like all things in life, you can’t please all the people all of the time and that’s the Russian roulette that is design. It’s finding that solution that isn’t too radical or confrontational to cause great offence but creating a solution that triggers a spark or engenders an attachment, a desire without compromising your creativity as an artist. Its also about education. And as Spike Milligan once noted, ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… Get it out with optrex.