Impressions of Hirst

I first came across the artist Damien Hirst when I attempted an Art's course for my GCSE's. A trip to the weird and wonderful Saatchi Gallery introduced me to his now widely recognisable 'The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living', i.e. a shark in a box, along with Hirst's more conventional 'Spot Paintings', clearly no explanation needed. I don't think I was particularly overwhelmed by his work back then but being older and hopefully slightly wiser I decided to revisit Hirst's latest offering in the modern art paradise of the Tate Modern.

The exhibition is the first of its kind to showcase Hirst's work right from the very beginning of his artistic journey, so I was intrigued to see what came before and after the shark and if I felt any differently about these strange things called 'art'. 

If you haven't been to the Tate Modern before, I'd urge you too. Not necessarily for the art work itself but for the building. Admittedly I know nothing about architecture but I can't help but be impressed by the Tate's sheer size and presence.




Impressive. The minimalist structure of the Tate Modern is in huge contrast to Shakespeare's Globe which is located just next door.

Upon entering Hirst's exhibit, as juvenile as it sounds, I start giggling to myself like a naughty school girl. There are eight pans of varying sizes and colours lining one of the stark white walls, unfortunately photography wasn't permitted but I'm sure you can imagine this for yourself. It was the simplistic title of the piece that did it, '8 pans'. Why eight pans? I thought to myself, why not one pan or three spoons? Or a mix of kitchen utensils? Needless to say I was a sceptic from the beginning, and had that typical objectivist view of 'how can this be art?' Reading the free exhibit guide didn't much help matters, as it simply informed me that Hirst began to explore 'collage'. Nevertheless, '8 pans' provoked a reaction from me, which I hear is what art is all about and I did think to myself that brightly coloured pans would look rather attractive on the kitchen wall.

If I laughed at the first offering I positively gagged at the second. Imagine the following: a  severed cow's head, in a clear glass box covered with flies. Just shocking. And to make matters worse, the entire room smelt absolutely putrid, if you've ever had to suffer through a dissection lesson at school then you'll get the idea. I think I understood the general themes behind 'A Thousand Years' that of death, decay and coming face-to-face with ones own grizzly end. However, upon reading the exhibit guide I learnt that the work was representing 'a life cycle', with the maggots hatching into flies and then eventually meeting their own ends. I still struggled to comprehend how this could be considered art. Yes 'A Thousand Years' had a concept, but it wasn't particularly pleasant to look at and it didn't provide me with any sense of enjoyment, something which I personally look for in art. For me, the work lent itself more towards science than art and would look less out of place in an environment suited to this, say in a natural history museum.

At this point you may be wondering if I actually enjoyed any of Hirst's work? Well... surprisingly I did! There was a particular piece that neither made me giggle or gag but made me simply think 'this is nice I like this'. Entitled 'Judgement Day', the work featured a massive gold frame, crammed with neatly arranged rows of 'cubic zirconia's'. There were hundreds of the gems, which made it pretty to look at, as they playfully sparkled in the light of the room. I'm not entirely sure what Hirst was trying to say with this piece but it was most definately decadent and perhaps had associations of wealth as Hirst himself said it's 'all about feeling like King Midas'. 

So how do I feel about Hirst's art now? Quite frankly it's still not for me. It was an interesting experience and as I say I enjoyed 'Judgement Day' but I think this is because it was asthetically pleasing rather then anything else. However, I did react and have strong feelings towards a number of the works (the 'Spot Paintings' perhaps being an exception) and some would say that this is what art, particularly modern art, is all about.

 http://www.tate.org.uk/visit/tate-modern  

'The Jewellery Workshop' Charming in Every Way

On first impressions I can sum up 'The Jewellery Workshop' in three words. Chocolate. Box. Shop.

Located in a tiny 14th Century timber framed building, in East Grinstead,the Workshop is an absolute delight to look at. With Spring blossom trees outside and a shop sign that gently sways in the wind, the shop would make the ideal cover for any fancy box of chocolates.

And the homely details don't just stop on the outside. Inside,the interiors echo that of a cottage, with low beams, a fireplace and chaise longue the shop is nothing but charming.



The shop is also crammed with treasures, jewellery of all types and designs feature.There are delicate, intricate pieces made from sterling silver, elaborate semi-precious jewels and more quirky, unusual pieces like the colourful bangles made from Scottish resins.

Whilst the main collections have been handpicked from independent designers to fit with the electic personality of the store, other pieces have been hand-crafted by talented in-house designer Tracey-Jane Day.

After growing up in an creative environment and going on to study craftwork and metals at University, Tracey really has the knack of turning a customers idea into a beautiful reality.

'Sometimes the customer will only have a vague idea of what they want, so it's my job to find out about them and get a real sense of their personality.'


All bespoke pieces are drawn painstakingly by hand and too scale

A request for a cat & mouse keyring


Along with matching the piece to it's owner, all design work is done the old-fashioned
way, by hand and too scale, with no aid from computer software.In fact all bespoke pieces are designed in-store, in what director Debby Coghill refers to as the 'den', a tiny workshop in the back of the shop where customers can actually see the design process from start to finish.

Tracey working in the 'den'

As many businesses opt to use technology for their design process, there is a sense that cottage industries such as jewellery design is on its last legs. So it's greatly reassuring that in a small corner of Britain that the tradition of craftsmanship and metal work is being revived and maintained. And for me, this just adds another layer of charm to the already charming 'Jewellery Workshop'.

 http://www.jewellerywshop.co.uk/

Thank you to Debby Joy Coghill for her time and permission.