From the Vandalog street art blog:
Laurence Billiet sent over this photo of a piece she spotted in Paris, referencing Damien Hirst’s spot paintings.
The lettering and style is remarkably well done. It’s like Lawrence Weiner, Ben Eine and Hirst had a threesome and this would be their love child. No word who the artist is yet.
And in other strange Hirst-related news. Marina Galperina blogs a I think she went in stoned post for Animal NY about her ‘trip’ to the Hirst spot show at Gagosian’s Beverly Hills outpost:
Minutes passed and giddiness ebbed and so did that initial, familiar choke-up of Hirst-induced vomit. I waited for the dizzying, perception-altering sensations almost all art critics mentioned mid-rant last week. There they kind of were. Each dot sprouted a thin, jittery aura, begging for order. My eyes played Whack-a-Mole, looking for the reddest, the greenest, all the red, all the pink as the rest vibrated eclipsed in black, the lightest dissolved away, the darkest charred holes and the pattern blistered with an electric shadow of itself. It was sharp, like a knife, stabbing the squeaky white halls until varied-colored dots bled out, uniformly. They looked just like peeling stickers, sliding off the canvas edge, which was particularly dangerous for the giant, me-sized dots on the canvas behind me. I sailed to the back and the dots didn’t get bigger — I got smaller. I don’t know if Hirst had consciously pre-programmed this brain-play. Maybe? Being exhibited together in a gallery — like in a kind of two-dimensional alien zoo — the spot paintingsdid gain something in comparison to each other. Something or other.
… “I want to climb them,” my friend roared at the giant ones, and as I got ready to scoff, I saw a small herd of children frolicking about, a mother snagging a tiny giggly one away just as she was about to paw that big circle, the circle looking so juicy and so tasty. The kid got it! Wait. Did I just get it? Were these… nice?
Thank Darwin for medicinal marijuana in California, right?