Was that Britart? Try Gritart.

I have a lot of respect for the role of the artist.

I try and keep that respect intact. Even though it is under daily assault from the likes of a dead zebra, a shop model on a toilet and Lord Byron, who'd probably add that he'd rather be dead than turned into a coffee table.

Well that respect takes a serious battering today. From Polly Apfelbaum at the art gallery MKG, where I am forcing abuse and psychological damage* upon the gritlets via an art workshop.

Polly has made some thoughtful pieces in the past. This time, she's cut up a lot of fabric and put it all over the floor.

Mess

Perhaps she should come round here and see my floors.

Art

You see? Art and Mess can be the same thing.

Anyway, I have a lot of respect for the staff at MKG. They are very kind, despite looking momentarily pissed off with the great unwashed home educated masses. I'll just say that today they were patient and tolerant enough to amuse us all with a workshop on shape and space.

This is the result.


First give it a fancy title, like Spacial objects immersed in hybridity.

Next, give it a status as an entire movement. Gritart.

Now shovel out some mumbo jumbo like

Gritart is a co-constructionist endeavour, marking singular moments in space and time, clearly drawing on complex dynamics of power and authority which naturally resonate in our parallel world where disjointedness, separation and identity sublimate into a mindset of challenge, despair, resolution and ultimately, void. A work of spiritual intensity and great refreshing honesty.

And the fact that no one can understand that should underline its deep significance.

But now, shove it in a gallery called BLOG.

Finally, slap down a price. Polly, the Gritart's yours for five thousand quid.


* I'm afraid to know about this, you're going to have to read earlier entries to this blog.