Damien Hirst at Punta Della Dogana

Fake News Calling Card: The name Hirst gives to the sunken ship holding the treasures shown here is Apistos. Well, the word does not in fact translate into Unbelievable, as the title of the exhibition and the text in the entrance at Punta Della Dogana claim, but rather into Unbeliever.

It is a huge show – I have not yet seen the Palazzo Grassi part – but, of course, it could be far bigger: A machine could randomly recombine its basic elements into an endless number of forms and sizes. I even imagine Hirst and his team devising a machine of their own, a game of chance to decide those items that made it into existence.

It has been pointed out in some reviews that most of the sculptures are poorly executed – which might well be on purpose, and I suppose could not be helped even if it wasn’t. But I think this kind of criticism is shallower than Hirst’s works. This is Mickey Mouse art that lays everything bare – from the comically extravagant story of the sunken ship’s discovery to the three versions on sale for each work – Coral (as found on the wreck)/ Treasure (cleaned up)/ Copy. And the artist even gets to keep two copies.

So, come on: Pointing out that the works are not of a high technical standard is just silly.

The twitter-clever inscription “Somewhere between lies and truth lies the truth” at the entrance of the show says almost everything there is to know about it, but there are several things to see afterwards, and it’s all very exciting and boring – like extremely salty food or a Big Mac is tasty.

If we need better comments on truth (and the burden of proof is on those who are sure that we do) it is unfair to ask Damien Hirst to make them.

He never promised to.

 

 

Detour (with Henry James)

‘The Venice of today is a vast museum where the little wicket that admits you is perpetually turning and creaking, and you march through the institution with a herd of fellow-gazers. There is nothing left to discover or describe, and originality of attitude is utterly impossible.’

5-Sargent-Interior-In-Venice
John Singer Sargent (1856–1925): An Interior In Venice (The Curtis Family), 1898.