Kraftwerk

Traveling has opened our eyes to a lot of differences in the world. Social Differences, language differences (and difficulties) as well as artistic and cultural differences. Being blatant British tourists, with our milk white skin and factor 50, our failure to grasp any of the local language or etiquette, we were subconsciously waving the 'Brits abroad' the majority of the time, despite our best efforts to 'get down with the culture', getting to grips with the 'undiscovered', the 'real' traditions of the country we stumbled on a most unnerving discovery. The world of European 'art' markets. Advertised as 'art' markets we expected to find some fellow artists and bohemians to share our so far exciting experiences of adventure with. However, two or three 'art markets' later we realised these blights on the artistic map were no more than kitsch junk tourist traps. The devil objects on display were no more intrinsic to the art world than craft at the local village fete or embroidery done by coffin dodgers the world over. As we walked down these isles of blasphemy, our corneas were singed by garish faux abstraction, poorly executed figurative stick men and portraits of smug looking cats. Despite this worrying wealth of bollocks what perturbed us even more about these pop up crap hypermarkets was their location. They were placed directly outside some of the most historically and culturally important galleries and museums these countries had to offer. Museo de Artes in Seville, Berlin's famous Museum Island to name just two. In Germany it seemed the line between craft and art was becoming perilously close (echo's of the Warhol era I hear you scream). The phrase fine art had definitely been lost somewhere in translation. Take Tacheles for instance. One of Berlin's most well established and renowned art collectives. A run down, piss reeking, graffiti clad and abandoned department store, sounds promising doesn’t it?. Situated in one of the most bohemian and prolific artistic areas of Berlin, sounds even more promising doesn’t it?. Wrong. For me and my fellow artsy friend it turned out to be a disappointing voyage of discovery into the harsh torrential down pours of the German July. The place as a whole seemed stagnant. Not just the piss but the work. I'm sure the artists had the best intentions but they seemed like they were struggling, living art machines, churning out popular consumables. I found it sad to see this place, that in better days had obviously produced some incredible talent, a previous inspirational hub for Berlins emerging artists. Why had it become such a depressing and unappealing place? Why was it stagnant? Why everywhere we went shit 'art' work followed. Questions that played on our minds for hours on the long journey back to the equally depressing and stagnant Scottish lands. Thinking about the subject more widely, we realised that this is happening all over Europe at the moment and I can only assume that it is happening on a larger scale than this. I believe that despite what anyone says the financial crisis has hit the art world hard just like the rest of the professional sectors. Artists that could once have broken even financially by producing artwork they believe in now have to commit the ultimate sin, sell there soul to the devil, and produce commercially viable art. Artists that once didn't give a shit about what the public think now have to succumb to popular demand just to stay afloat. Unless of course you are blessed and have ties to a major gallery, but lets face it how many real artists get this chance. Artists around the world have reached a fork in the road, one decision that will change the paths of their careers forever. Do they bow to public demand , produce works for dental practices and rich lawyers firms or do they stick to the grassroots, ride the financial wave and undoubtedly hit turbulence on the way? Through hours of discussion me and my traveling compadre came to another conclusion that just may be the answer to the questions posed in Germany. The art world has reached a plateau, a plateau of ideas and aesthetics that have been tied up for years. It has been over 12 years ago that emin fucked someone on a bed and claimed that it was art, an idea that Duchamp coined a century ago and to this very day people see it as contemporary art. The phrase itself now a contradiction. The only answer is that an artistic revolution needs to happen. A Darwinesque moment needs to occur. Epiphanies need to be realised. Let the hydron collider of our minds be let loose upon the world.  Yes sir I think we have finally got it, the first step to change is realising that change needs to happen in the first place, a naive discovery maybe, but one that may just change the future of the art world.