Moving Art
normally i hate art that is, eugh, moving, but i was sent along to review the mark gilbert show at the glasgow school of art yesterday and was, well, moved.
he’s done a series of portraits of people with disfigured faces before, during and after surgery and neatly sidestepped naff shock tactics to produce some fucking amazing paintings. unfortunately he rather undermines his brief to show off the joyous successes of modern medicine by making his subjects equally beautiful whether they’ve got a big weird growth on their head, a clamp ripping their face apart or are cheerily sitting there all normal.
which reminds me, i must find out more about hardcore disabled folk who have no truck with this sort of thing and demand that the world be changed instead of them. i was in full agreement with this view having seen a particularly, um, moving episode of ER about a deaf baby or something, but now i’m not so sure.
sorry about that, i shall return to affecting the cold, unemotional ice queen pose that i’ve been working on (with little success) since i was about ten as soon as possible.
and is that leon i see blogging before mine very eyes? huzzah! but less of your showy html palaver, young man. i didn’t spend nigh on thirty seconds of my precious time cut ‘n’ pasting the script for that ‘open links in new windows’ button only for slick types to start making target=”_blank” you know!
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