Damien Hirst and the age of the phoneys.

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During the 90s, before I was ex-communicated for heresy, I was counted as one of Tracy Emin’s oldest friends. I had also met her art dealer, Jay Jopling, and got on very well with Sarah Lucas. Because of my lack of regard for contemporary art I declined Tracy’s invites to all parties and private views with very few exceptions, one of them being the opening of Minky Manky at the South London Gallery.

Looking around at the exhibits, I whispered to her it should be re-titled Winky W**ky Woo, which earned me my first angry look of the evening. Later, in the garden, she introduced me to those two artists in suits who look like Morecombe & Wise, but aren’t as funny, and then to her friend Damien. “She’s got big tits – have you f**ked her?” he asked me. I smiled thinly and steered Tracy away. She made excuses for him, I found it a bit dumb.

On reflection, this was a singularly fitting introduction: Damien’s work is very much about statements of the obvious made in a 14-year-old schoolboy type of way. Other acquaintances of mine who know Damien, often defend his work by arguing that it’s a reflection of the times in which we live. To my mind this doesn’t make his work vital and exciting, but is the very reason why it is ephemeral and boring.

When Mayor Giuliani tried to ban the Sensation show in New York, Damien was reported to have said that if New York wasn’t such an important market he’d refuse to show there ever again. This declaration is very revealing and confirms that Damien’s work is not about integrity but markets, which is in stark opposition to art, the heart and soul of which is integrity. It’s clear that Damien would not spend 25 years pickling sharks in his garden shed waiting for his genius to be recognised. If his “art” didn’t sell he wouldn’t do it. This, for me, is the crux. If Damien Hirst doesn’t even believe in his own work then why should I?

However, in the end, I think it’s wrong to judge Damien Hirst as an artist at all. It’s easier to look at what he is really trying to achieve than what he says he is. Damien Hirst wants money and celebrity, and in this area he is a great success. His talk and art are merely sound bites, as phoney as Tony Blair’s, and, like Tony, Damien is one of Thatcher’s children.

NB. None of my comments are meant personally but relate only to his “art” and public persona. After all, it’s not a sin to be obvious and it’s not entirely his fault if he’s taken seriously. Billy Childish 12 September 03

Damien Hirst’s Romance In The Age Of Uncertainty, 10 September to 19 October at White Cube Gallery, Hoxton, London.