Damien Hirst at Tate Modern

Admittedly I am a little late on the bandwagon, but I have decided to review Damien Hirst's exhibition at Tate Modern, which ends on September 9th. I visited in July before departing on a whirlwind holiday to Barbados, directly followed by a short History of Art trip to Edinburgh with two of my fellow pupils, then straight down to London for the Olympics. This meant I was unable to start my blog until now, so I am now playing catch up.

Damien Hirst is an artist who provokes a Marmite style love him or hate him reaction amongst both the press and the public, and so I was forced to drag along the boyfriend as the parents refused point blank. All are of the opinion that Hirst is no more than a glorified, albeit very successful, entrepreneur - not an artist. And, I do agree to a certain extent, though not entirely. He has created a cult following in amongst the rich world of what I would call commercial art; pieces such as the (practically mass produced) spot paintings, which are not even executed by Hirst himself, sell for millions, a nice earner if there ever was one -prompting the cynicism of the public and press.

 It is works like this, along with the piece commonly known as 'the shark in the tank' (actually called 'The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living') that provoke public outrage that a man can be so rich without the need of any technical skill in 'art' which is considered by most people to be an attractive representation of a person object or landscape in paint. Hirst's work is alien to those of this narrow opinion, they do not look past the exterior, to the meaning of the piece, what 'the shark in the tank' represents, they see only the sensation surrounding one of art's richest men. I would argue however that Hirst uses many references in his work that have been used throughout the artwork from across  Europe since the Renaissance and before, the type of work which many consider to be 'proper art'.

Many works, such as 'Trinity - Pharmacology, Physiology, Pathology' which is arranged as a triptych as can be seen in many altarpieces, are direct references to Christianity simply fused with a slightly morbid, cynical but throughly modern view of the world that we now live in.

 Another example of these religious references can be seen in 'Doorways to the Kingdom of Heaven', these beautiful compositions of butterfly wings and household gloss paint (used frequently in Hirst's work) in the shape of a stained glass window that would be seen in a traditional gothic church. These were my favourite pieces in the exhibition, purely for their aesthetic beauty of form and vibrant colour.

By the end of the exhibition, after having been attacked by live butterflies and wondering what the fuss was about the smell supposedly coming from the giant ashtray, I had partially converted my companion to the belief that Hirst knows what he is doing, and not only in an entrepreneurial sense. I can recommend this exhibition to anyone, whether you like Hirst's work or not; you may not be converted, but you will certainly enjoy the spectacle.