Flaming Terrible
‘WHEN we read in the Telegraph that a fire has destroyed millions of pounds worth of art, we are dismayed.
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| Don’t be afraid to use a one-man tent – anything will be of help |
But our pain is only short-lived because the fire has not consumed the National Gallery. Turner’s Ulysses deriding Polyphemus – Homers Odyssey and Titians Bacchus and Ariadne are as evocative of the human spirit today as they were yesterday.
Art restorers will not be required to grind powders and mix inks to produce palettes from the time of Leonardo da Vinci, piecing together his Virgin on The Rocks millimetre by millimetre.
No, the works lost to the nation when a fire gutted the Momart warehouse were mainly those by those Young British Artists.
The paper is right when it says that a great chunk of British art history is turned to ashes, but it need not be the end.
And you can help make things as they were.
Dig out your old tent and daub on it the name of Everyone I Ever Slept With, then sign the door flaps Tracy Emin, attach a £40,000 price tag and send it to Maurice Saatchi.
Then pop along to your local toy store, buy loads of Subbuteo referee figures, paint SS armbands on them and tell Jake and Dinos Chapman that their vision of Hell is resorted.
Also feared lost is Anoraks entry into last years Turner Prize, the sensational and challenging Vomit In Sock.
We fear that this too has now been lost to the nation, but if anyone out there has a sock and is feeling a bit bilious in the face of so much devastation, they can send their clothing and the contents of their stomach to the usual address.
And if you can toss in a dead fish, so much the better…’
Posted: 26th, May 2004 | In: Broadsheets Comment | TrackBack | Permalink
