Guest Blog: Chris Evans on Damien Hirst
[This post was graciously volunteered by former BYU Art History major, Chris Evans. Let it be known that I'd love to have guest bloggers contribute to this conversation!]
The first time I heard the name Damien Hirst was in connection with his 2003 work, Judgment Day. It is a large, square panel covered and encrusted with thousands of dead flies. Initially, the title and the imagery struck me as something unique and thought provoking. I searched for meaning, often coming back to religious connections due to the title, but was ultimately left wanting. The piece lacked any real formalist appeal that would excite the eye, so to enjoy and appreciate this work I assumed that it must have some sort of deep, consequential conceptual facet to it. In truth, the work lacks any such facet. Thus, it is devoid both of any aesthetic draw and any real conceptual meaning—as is the vast majority of Damien Hirst’s work of the last ten years.
I propose that Hirst’s ‘art’ is in fact ‘non-art.’ His work cannot be considered art on an aesthetic or beauty based criteria, nor can it be considered conceptual art because his works possess no meaning or substance beyond an initial shock. His pieces only alarm, repulse, and offend the viewer, which he does as a ploy for nothing more than profit and fame.
Since coming to the fore of contemporary art, Damien Hirst has built a major reputation and has often been hailed for his artistic vision. In the words of one art critic, he even has a “genius reputation”. His fame has spread from his homeland of England to every corner of the art world, and has permeated the fabric of the non-art world to the point that his “iconography has entered the common consciousness so completely…that even people with only a passing interest in art are likely to be familiar with his [work].”
To test the veracity of that statement, I asked my father if he knew who Hirst was. To be clear, my father is not involved in the art world, and aside from being dragged to the occasional Impressionist exhibit with my 19th-century-art-loving mother, he is not frequently exposed to art. The conversation went as follows:
Me: “Hey, I have a question for you.”
Dad: “Okay.”
Me: “Have you ever heard of Damien Hirst?”
Dad: “The artist? The guy who cuts up the animals and sticks them in formaldehyde?”
That is exactly the guy, dad. Clearly, an artist, especially a contemporary artist, whose work has so fully integrated itself into the general knowledge of society must possess something very worthwhile in his work. This is not the case.
The desperate search for meaning within the work of Hirst is most likely spawned by the attention grabbing titles of his various pieces. Titles of his work include, The Twelve Disciples (1994), Resurrection (1998-2003), Adam and Eve (Banished from the Garden) (1999), Mother and Child, Divided (1993), and The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living (1991). As mentioned above, it was the title of Judgment Day that caused me to stop, pause, and ponder the meaning of the piece. Without the title, I would have quickly moved on with the clear understanding that I could look at the work for hours and never coming to an understanding of its meaning. However, after continuing to look at and ponder the various works of Hirst I soon came to find that the meaning thought to be within the works of Hirst is not there. The titles, which have been described as “very short novels,” are little more than facades for the empty works they accompany.
Conversation Topic: Should Damien Hirst’s work be considered “art?” If so, why?
7 comments
Weird, I wrote a post a lot like this about a year ago. I believe what Hirst creates is indeed art, for all the basest reasons: it was meant to express an experience of humanity, it was sold, it provides visual stimuli, it resides in museums, and is sold in galleries. If you want to draw further connections, you could compare his artistic method (assistants make most of his works and they are merely signed by him) to Rembrandt’s similarly-managed workshop (Please, Martha, do not kill me). Yes, it’s art.
The this that is so irritating, though, about Hirst’s art is that it is not GOOD art. Chris has pointed out its aesthetic and conceptual flaws and the mind-boggling fact that he still makes record-breaking sales with his offensive and trite subjects.
Those of us who consider ourselves on a higher moral ground balk at the obnoxious, cheap, and occasionally evil-feeling things he sends out into theart world. The world, in turn, has long since set aside a search for beauty– even conceptual beauty, it seems, if you take the whole yBA group’s works as a sample. Hirst, with his shock value, his brazen and cosmopolitan marketing prowess, and his historical placement as the progeny of a long line of offensive artists making art of valueless subjects (see: Warhol) gets away with making “fine art” in the world’s eyes.
Man. I am constantly on watch for something I can do about this annoying scenario.
I actually don’t mind Hirst. I think you can find meaning in what he does. I was very intrigued by his dissection of cow parts and their placement in rows of formaldehyde tanks, for example. There was something visceral and also poignant about it. He’s doing something deliberate visually and giving them names that could have consequential meaning, then leaving us to fill in the gaps as we will. I think that’s art.
I think you could say a great deal about a thousand dead flies with a title like Judgment Day.
I feel about Hirst the way I feel about the Impressionists: when they say their works have no meaning, they lied. Their works both resonate and repulse because they are art and they stir something in the viewer, even if that reaction is ultimately negative. If we don’t like what we see I think our issue is with the larger culture than with the piece. Granted, Impressionist work is much more aesthetically pleasing, but it was equally criticized in its day for its arbitrariness and lack of technical skill. Also, I think that creating art for power and fame is a legitimate and telling cultural critique in and of itself. I vote art.
I agree with Danielle. There have always been art movements throughout history which have been critiqued because they fling a pot of paint in the face of the public. Hirst is just following a long established artistic tradition. I actually find his art quite stimulating, mentally. Naturally a large part of it relies on shocking the viewer and grabbing our attention. It works. Beyond the shock factor however, there is a lot of thought in his works (enlightened, depraved or inane), even if those thoughts are projected onto them by the viewer. For my part, I consider Hirst’s work to be art.
I must agree with Lindsey that yes, Hirst is an artist and the stuff he produces is art. But then again, I’ve always favored those like Duchamp who say that an artist has the Midas touch, and if an artist says it’s art, who are we non-artists to dispute that? Also, you say that, although Hirst’s work doesn’t seem to have any deeper meaning or formal appeal, it does produce some effect–that of shock and confusion. Perhaps that is Hirst’s intent, and I think it’s as valid an intent as any.
The question then becomes, “Is it good art?” In that case, I would say no. I find his work too superficial and sloppy.
I must agree with Lindsey that yes, Hirst is an artist and the stuff he produces is art. But then again, I’ve always favored those like Duchamp who say that an artist has the Midas touch, and if an artist says it’s art, who are we non-artists to dispute that? Also, you say that, although Hirst’s work doesn’t seem to have any deeper meaning or formal appeal, it does produce some effect–that of shock and confusion. Perhaps that is Hirst’s intent, and I think it’s as valid an intent as any.
The question then becomes, “Is it good art?” In that case, I would say no. I find his work too superficial and sloppy.
I think you have nailed what I have come to believe about art. Almost anything in the world could be called “art” and I’m sure plenty of intelligent people would have excellent arguments in favor of bestowing that title on said object. But, there are very few things that can be called “good art.” Thus, not all “art” is “good art.”
Leave a Comment