Two shots from early evening at the Tate Modern

I love the way the rain-soaked evening cradles the city. It is not yet dark, but the quality of the light is so soft and grey it seems to swaddle the town like a duvet. Meanwhile inside the Tate we have a fair ground ride masquerading as art masquerading as a fair ground ride: a game from Karsten Holler that is less than it seems.



[And yes, I know I've just used my purple prose allocation for the year. So sue me.]

John Stuart Mill on Checks and Balances

Quoted by Salon concerning the Gonzales debacle, but applicable in many other places, not least our own dear Attorney General:

Instead of the function of governing, for which it is radically unfit, the proper office of a representative assembly is to watch and control the government: to throw the light of publicity on its acts: to compel a full exposition and justification of all of them which any one considers questionable; to censure them if found condemnable, and, if the men who compose the government abuse their trust, or fulfill it in a manner which conflicts with the deliberate sense of the nation, to expel them from office, and either expressly or virtually appoint their successors.

I'm not sure if these are Banksy's tribute to the death of Baudrillard, but they have recently appeared on a wall close to my flat.

Pareto bites the dust

There is an absolutely fascinating article in the current LRB about happiness and the hedonic treadmill. Briefly (and sadly you will have to buy the magazine as the full article is only online for LRB subscribers) it appears that Avner Offer has shown, at least to the reviewer's satisfaction, that growing GDP beyond a certain point leads to decreasing happiness. Extra income is not Pareto optimal. Now if this Easterlin paradox is really true (and what is new about Offer's book is apparently the wealth of detailed econometric evidence), this does pose some interesting challenges about what to do about it.

Anselm does Piccadilly

Anselm Kiefer has a good claim for being the finest painter working today. But his paintings are huge and not really suitable for reproduction on anything that isn't ten foot long so here's a tower of his instead (in the courtyard of the Royal Academy).

What is so impressive about Kiefer is his seriousness. He dares to be serious. He is not in awe of the (fantastically amusing it's true) Cattelan/Kippenberger tendency. It takes an extraordinary talent to reject lightness of touch and not appear pretentious: that's the way the art game is set up at the moment. But often Kiefer manages it.