Dharlings! Lovvies! How wonderful to see you again! Aren't I fabulous?! Mwah, MWAH!!
...it doesn't work, does it? Okay, maybe if I was a published author with a deal at the White Cube, I could get away with being up my own arse. But, even if I was on the Bestseller's List and able to sell my unmade bed for millions (Ah! Just had a great idea for that pile of washing up...), I'd like to think that I wouldn't become one of those pretentious eejits.
Yep, you guessed it, something is on my mind.
...it doesn't work, does it? Okay, maybe if I was a published author with a deal at the White Cube, I could get away with being up my own arse. But, even if I was on the Bestseller's List and able to sell my unmade bed for millions (Ah! Just had a great idea for that pile of washing up...), I'd like to think that I wouldn't become one of those pretentious eejits.
Yep, you guessed it, something is on my mind.
On Thursday, I went to the Open Studio event at Wimbledon Art Studios. My mate Laura shares a studio there, and I could think of no better way to spend my evening other than quaffing wine, gossiping with my mate and enjoying some art. I admit, I thoroughly enjoyed my chinwag with Laura and her studio buddy Bea and made the most of the free bar (yes, I have no shame), but, whilst some of the art was pretty impressive, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, confused even. Why? Well, because whilst some of the artists were incredibly welcoming and chatty (and a handful forgivably shy), others almost seemed to resent giving members of the public access to their work. Several times I wandered into a studio to be greeted by a group talking loudly as they sipped their sauvignon. Fine, I guess. I can even forgive those who didn't say hello. But those who refused to acknowledge my presence or, worse still, gave me a contemptuous look before returning their valuable attention to their cronies - sorry, but I have no time for them. Especially those who huddle by their door so you can't even get bloody in...
I just can't understand artists who take themselves so seriously. It spreads into the other arts, too. Many a time I have seen a band play live who I loved, only to be left cold by their refusal to interact with the crowd - yet been delighted by others who openly show their respect and gratitude to their audience. Yesterday I went to the theatre to see The Play that Goes Wrong and, whilst it isn't my usual cup of tea, it was refreshing to see thesps having a bit of fun and basically taking the mick out of themselves.
So guys, do me a favour; never take yourself too seriously, no matter how successful you are. And, if I ever win the Booker or even the Turner Prize, please tell me if I become a pompous dick. Because it really isn't very becoming...
I just can't understand artists who take themselves so seriously. It spreads into the other arts, too. Many a time I have seen a band play live who I loved, only to be left cold by their refusal to interact with the crowd - yet been delighted by others who openly show their respect and gratitude to their audience. Yesterday I went to the theatre to see The Play that Goes Wrong and, whilst it isn't my usual cup of tea, it was refreshing to see thesps having a bit of fun and basically taking the mick out of themselves.
So guys, do me a favour; never take yourself too seriously, no matter how successful you are. And, if I ever win the Booker or even the Turner Prize, please tell me if I become a pompous dick. Because it really isn't very becoming...
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