Actually that pretty much sums up what happens in our house if I leave washing-up lying about, except there is no finesse about the cacophony and distinctly limited new possibility. Outpost is dead right when it comes to the kitchen sink.
Well, you are all so much more intellectual about it than I am. I just took it as a damning (aren't they always?) comment on the middle classes (wine-glass) being squeezed (2 chairs, one glass) by their own wastefulness (recycling bin) and, possibly, global warming (outdoor location). The brick wall possibly signifies the 'end of the road' for them. And us? Perhaps my deconstruction is too superficial and obvious. But it does show how you can read things into a picture that may not actually be there, and casts a smidgen of doubt on the content of some of the essays you get in exhibition catalogues...
So blah blah blah blah blah. However blah blah blah blah de blah blah Notwithstanding blah blah blah blether double barrelled blah de blah blah The viewer notices blah blether blah blah de blah etc. #Complete and utter bolox
On the subject of certificates, a number of these have just appeared in the window of the barbers by the newsagent I use... I've smudged out the name so you don't know who has a certificate in ripping the heads of girls' dolls.
Love it, and I would have taken the photograph too. This is not only a damning indictment of ecological neglect but also invites the viewer to consider conversations that might have been, as well as those which must surely come, before our own idolatry of convenience and gluttony consign us to a tiny footnote in the history of the universe.
I reckon 90% of exhibition catalogues are post-rationalisation. Make the stuff then make some stuff up about it.
