Damien Hirst at The Wallace Collection

Damien Hirst at The Wallace Collection

14 October, 2009
by: Tom Jeffreys

And so, after all the hype, it's finally opened. After making his name putting cows in alcohol, coating skulls with diamonds and employing staff to undertake the oh-so-challenging task of putting spots onto canvases, Damien Hirst has decided to produce some real paintings, and he's actually done them himself. With a brush and everything.

No Love Lost – Blue Paintings suffers from three major problems. The first is that it is categorically impossible to approach this exhibition with an open mind, however hard one may try. As far as possible I always attempt to approach a show without preconceptions (of course this is always ultimately impossible, but it's worth a try). The problem with Hirst is that his presence is so ingrained in one's consciousness that it is impossible not to have an opinion of the man and his works. And when he makes public statements like 'I'm happy where they [the paintings] are right now. I went through some weird shit to get here, and they seem like they can work in this market', it's tough to warm to him.

The second problem is linked. Hirst is an expert manipulator of the press and shrewd reader of the art market, but his actual art is rarely exciting or engaging, beyond the initial impact. And so this show suffers because it simply isn't very good. Hirst is not a talented or innovative painter and he doesn't really have much to say. Irony can cover many things but when the veil is lifted, there's simply nothing there.


Damien Hirst, 'No Love Lost - Blue Paintings'
Photography by Billie Scheepers © Damien Hirst

The usual array of Hirst symbols line up present and correct: spots, sharks, skulls, flowers… The stylistic influence of Francis Bacon completely dominates these sludgy blue-black works. There is occasional force, and I like one work – a depiction of a white vase of flowers with butterflies flying out from it. It sustains one's interest for longer than the rest of the show, mainly because the symbolism is less overtly trite.

The third problem comes from the setting. Much has been made of Hirst showing amongst the Eighteenth Century splendour of Velazquez, Gainsorough and Joshua Reynolds at The Wallace Collection, and in some ways it seems unfair to judge him against these undisputed masters. But Hirst chose to exhibit here and to compare himself to these greats. And so, inevitably his adolescent daubs pale in comparison to the power and sombre gravitas of Velazquez or the fascinating combination of delicacy and grandeur that Vernet somehow achieves.

I'm with Hirst when he says that The Blue Paintings 'seem like they can work in this market' – I'm sure he'll sell the lot. But art is not solely about sales. This is a hollow shell of a show.

Damien Hirst - The Blue Paintings is at The Wallace Collection until 24th January 2010.

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Tom Jeffreys