Well done richard wright.

I went to the Tate Britain in November to see the shortlist exhibition for the Turner prize. As much as it is an incredible accolate - I'm always scepical of the content of prospective Turner Prize entries. I am not impressed by a shit on a brick, or other likened specimins - as in my opinion, they are not art. I did really enjoy going round the exhibition and I thought all of the artits had grasped something worthy and inspiring - especially after watching the broadcast video from each artits - discussing their motives.

I should have blogged at the time - because then it wouldn't look like I'm lying - but I really DID think Richard Wright should win. I am very interested in textural art - whether it be visual or to the touch. I am also very interested in the idea of fragments and delicacy - which is why I loved Wright's beautifully intricate paintings and hidden placements, in the crevices of infrastructure. I am also a big fan of gold and think that using a medium such as gold leaf really adds to the precious yet fragile nature of his work.

I had written a bit about my trip for a cultural initiative that is starting up in 2010 - so I may as well copy and paste that blurb:

This week I went to the Tate Britain to see the exhibition of the 4 artists shortlisted for the 2009 Turner Prize. Each artist had a distinctive style and interesting meaning behind their work. There was everything from copper sulphate to a shark’s skeleton included in the pieces. Each artist dealt with many materials in truly innovative ways and it was great to look at. My favourite artist was Richard Wright. He creates beautifully intricate geometric wall paintings that often only last the duration of the exhibition, as they are painted directly onto the permanent architecture of the gallery. I like the fact that his work is temporary as it adds to the fragility of these discreet, almost hidden paintings.

As you can tell - I'm a big fan of the term 'beautifully intricate'. I'm not sorry. It shows that art doesn't have to be elaborate and crass to be appreciated. I love the temporary feel to it, as it makes it more precious and I love his general theory behind his work: "There's already too much stuff in the world. And it buys you a kind of freedom. Not having [paintings] come back to haunt you is a kind of liberation. You make something, and a month later it is gone." (taken from The Guardian).