I realised that I hadn’t posted anything for over a week, so I started working up a thoughtful post about how the fact that the most expensive artwork ever is one artist’s painting of another artist says something not entirely complimentary about the up-its-own-arseness of the art world today. Blah blah, culture of narcissism, postmodern reflexivity, yada yada whatever.
But then I saw this Taiwanese take on the whole bizarre Rob Ford scenario and every definition of art I’d ever previously understood suddenly seemed anodyne and beige. I mean, Francis who?
But then I saw this Taiwanese take on the whole bizarre Rob Ford scenario and every definition of art I’d ever previously understood suddenly seemed anodyne and beige. I mean, Francis who?
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