At the Gagosian Gallery on London’s Brittania, the first exhibition dedicated to more than twenty pieces of Damien Hirsts' notoriously preserved, bisected and flayed animals poses questions on the ramifications of passing time and the inevitability of death.
This show is held during a time of constant flux between the physical and digital, with Hirst’s artworks featuring creatures suspended in a perverse limbo that echoes works in other contemporary shows such as The Royal Academy’s “Francis Bacon: Man and Beast” and the works of Deborah Sengl, and Hirst’s attitudes towards the desire to isolate and protect remains relevant. Seeing the savage physicality of the guts, intestines and carcass of an animal feeds our inherently curious human desire, and in a way presents a refreshingly physical, visceral perversion of the digital. However, this show seems to be made up entirely of pickled animals. The rooms were filled with death and formaldehyde, floating for eternity. It begs the question… is this enough anymore?
Following the original debut of Hirst’s most iconic sculpture, 1991’s The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, people were disgusted. Compromised of a fourteen-foot tiger shark suspended eerily with jaws agape, the piece evoked visceral responses, leaving animal rights activists protesting and oligarchs thirsting for more. Some were revulsed, whilst some reveled in the honesty of his work. However, the showcase now feels lifeless, dull, and repetitive. It seems like time has had its effect on Hirsts' work.
Another example of this banality can be seen in Shut up and Eat Your Fucking Dinner (1997), a work depicting a butcher shop with an assembly of animal innards, including strings of sausages, cutlets and ham, hanging against a blue and white 60's inspired exterior. Created in the nineties, the prices of the meat presented is the most eye-catching and shocking element. I mean, when was the last time you bought a whole chicken for £1.99?
In addition to this, the dramatic suspense of the gallery feels almost parodied. The scenes of children posing and smiling in front of a bisected shark takes away the sombre tones of the works - presenting the animals in a similar way to a Frankenstein science museum. It seems that Hirsts' tanks of preserved animals have transformed from the once vulgar into mainstream, commonplace art. The most shocking takeaway from the exhibition lies in the sheer lack of shock and disgust visible among visitors.