Art that might get you drunk

My understanding of art and appreciation increased ever since I started hanging about with advertising folks. Well, by that I mean a handful, given that there is an obnoxious lot out there who claim to know art. I am talking of people who have clear interests and follow a certain genre religiously without a layer of pretence on their face.

Now, I am a modern art guy. Leave me at Tate Modern and I'll find ways to marry the place. But working on several brands in my advertising career made me explore street art on a number of occasions and this form of public expression really grew on me. I have spent longer than fifteen minutes staring at sometimes random, sometimes insightful street art in and around England. I recently joined a group here in London that organises walks and they even invite you to galleries to get a better sense of street art around the world. I have managed to learn quite a lot in such a short period of time and saw an absolutely overrated side of this form this evening.

I went to the private view of the last solo show by much talked about London based street artist, Stik. I had seen some of his work on a review online last week but still went with an open mind, to you know, find something to appreciate. I had learnt that Stik is known for his ‘hyper-minimalist’ stick figures in a set number of lines and dots.

Stik's work did not make me smile. It did not make me think. It did not make me want to learn anything about it. Nothing. Though, tonight, it certainly made me look for more drinks, god bless that woman at the bar who entertained repeated requests for Absolut Pears and ginger ale. Before you judge me, try the damn thing, it’s refreshing and unbelievably delicious.

I am at a loss of words to describe how meh Stik’s work is. I can’t even remember if I’ve seen it around London, given how unimpressive it is. The following piece was available for £2,750. Wee, erm.

Then Stik created one exclusively for those present at the gallery. Right there, boom. It took him nearly forty minutes (equals to roughly four drinks for me. Or was it five?) to create a figure with spray can. To be honest, the most challenging bit seemed to be the ladder. There it was, in all its glory, the work that people were going crazy about. The secret? Oh, never mind.

I am convinced that any kind of art does not necessarily have to make you scratch your head and think deep and question your ideas, identity, beliefs. There’s rightfully a great need to have art that makes you smile, something that you see while walking or in a cafe and feel pleased about. But this? I wonder if it’s just me, but the only reaction it got from me was the need to get more to drink. (But that can’t be a bad thing entirely, right? RIGHT?)