For the love of God!

The last two days were leisurely spent in Amsterdam, that Sodom and Gomorrah full of drunken tourists visiting coffee shops. Luckily, there are fun things to do in Amsterdam as well; last Monday Miranda and I went to see the Scapino ballet's "Wonderland" performance at the Stadsschouwburg. And a wonderful evening it was. The ballet featured eight different dances by various choreographers who gave an amazing performance. The following day we went to see "For the love of God" ( the diamond skull by art's current bad boy Damien Hirst) at the Rijksmuseum. Luckily I'm not tormented by the perpetual "is it art or isn't it?". Beuys solved that one with the credo "every man is an artist". The question "do I think it's good or bad?" is far more interesting. And to be honest, that question has been keeping me busy for the past few days. The skull-hype is perfect, nothing wrong with that. Hypes are everyday stuff these days and the world of the arts is full of them. The platinum cast of the skull (it's not a real skull, it's a replica featuring human teeth) has been augmented with 8,601 diamonds and one large pear shaped 54,4 carat diamond on its forehead. Just that you know. Like most skulls it appears to laugh at us. A friendly skull therefore. A skull smaller than expected too. I didn't find it that amazing in form and presentation, but I readily admit I'm impressed by what this piece manages to achieve. Only time will tell if it is a timeless masterpiece, worthy of being in the same museum as Vermeer's Kitchen Maid, which, incidentally, moved me more when I saw it again than the skull did. As an aside: I love the story how the title of the skull object came to be. I always figured it had some sort of deep meaning, but picture a somewhat sloppy Eastenders-like kitchen. At the table are Damien Hirst and his mother sharing a mother-and-son moment embellished with a cup of tea. Damien: "Mum, I've been thinking about decorating a human skull with a shitload of diamonds and sell it for millions of pounds to some poor fucker who thinks it's the best thing ever". Damien's mum: "Damien, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, why don't you get yourself a decent job like your brother Glenn who drives busses in Croydon. Oh, and mind your fucking language!". That is what it's all about. Genius.