Mud, Inglorious Mud

I guess where ever you chose to ride off-road in the UK today, you’d have been faced with an excess of mud. In the Forest of Dean, you’d have experienced mud, swamp-like areas where there’s more water than mud, and more mud. Thankfully, there are also reasonable hard-pack trails.

There’s also a very, very large chair which, if nothing else, brings a smile.

Other sculptures on the local ‘sculpture trail’ there, I confess, left me cold and the descriptions or ‘artist statements’ that accompanied them seemed by and large banal.

I suppose it’s a comment on something that the fact that these works of art didn’t strike a chord with me, makes me examine my reaction just as much as I looked at the sculptures.

The – to me at least – interesting question is, what’s that ensuing self-examination a comment on? My perhaps feeble lack of confidence in my opinions about ‘culture’, as if ‘culture’ is for experts? The success of the art establishment (what- or who-ever that might be) in making me doubt myself, however mistaken that doubt might be? My liberality and open-mindedness? I don’t know. There probably isn’t a definite answer.

Forest of Dean chair sculpture

Dull, obvious, unchallenging art easily appreciated by idiots?