David Lee
July/August 2020
It’s been hard to avoid following the fortunes of our present crop of self-appointed ‘war artists’. You may recall from the past, as I do, that many of the finest achievements in 20th century British art were produced in response to war. Artists rose to the occasion. So how has the performance of our State Art stars measured up during the most socially disruptive, deadly and economically disastrous crisis since 1945?
Chancers to the last, during solitary the Usual Suspects have left no stone unturned to keep their names up in flashing lights (while masquerading as benefactors naturally). Thousands may die – how sad – but there are points to be scored, positions to be consolidated and the whiff of medals in the air.
And so it is that we’ve been deluged with slogans, printed and projected, all of them featuring the subtlety of mind typical of conceptual artists for whom even basic thinking is a Boot Camp assault course (retired hurt). So what have they done? They have: issued banal posters by the ream (that bonehead Deller to the fore here) supportive