I’m so sick of skull art. The object bores me, and every male artist in the Western world seems to be fascinated by it these days. Chelsea’s resident skull dealer, Derek Eller current display, Lost on the Frontiers of Heaven in Hell by David Dupuis includes one or two reasonable drawings, (I surprised myself by liking his eye-in-the-sky collage Bodega Bay) and countless forgettable skull works. To be fair, by countless I really mean two, but the dealer has at least four other artists in his stable who have an affinity for the skull, which seems excessive to me.
Angelo Filomeno, Shitting Baroque, 2007, Photo B.
So does the fact that there are three skulls currently on display at PS1. Probably my least favorite amongst these, an embroidered double skull set by Angelo Filomeno that took the form of butterfly wings , ran with the title Shitting Baroque. In addition to being tired of skulls I’m also burned out on easy and ineloquent expressions of our falling Rome-like empire.
Damien Hirst, For the Love of God, 2007 Image via Iainclaridge.net
Probably the most well known recent example of skull art working with this message comes from Damien Hirst’s For The Love of God, a diamond encrusted head he tells us is about death, even though it speaks to little more than the amount of money it will sell for. Speaking of which, trying to find a review on the actual piece through google results is a unique torture I’ve decided I’m no longer willing to endure. As a result, my superficially researched, haven’t seen the piece, opinion on the work is that it resembles NYC Peach products. “Join the Style Revolution” reads their slogan, the words perfect matching their reputation as the bling provider to the stars. If the parallel means anything, the revolution lasted two short years before the company went out of business.