Gilbert and George…….

Gilbert and George, The One Show, Phil Tufnell and art.

It’s like one of those writing exercises: use all of these unrelated words in a sentence,  a paragraph, a story.  See how ridiculous/surreal/believable/suspenseful/tragic you can make it.

But on one evening this last week, there they all were, at the same time, on my television.

What were Gilbert and George thinking?

What were the BBC thinking?  Given the bewildered look on the face of the woman presenter throughout, (and the way she said ‘urethra art’ with not a glimmer of irony or amusement) I’d say she wasn’t thinking anything.

It has to have been one of the more surreal half hours broadcast by the BBC.   They had Gilbert and George sitting on their sofa in the studio and made them sit through a film about sensationalism in art, presented by Phil Tufnell, a former cricketer.  There’s a sense of humour at work there, somewhere.

I’ll admit that I’ve never really known what to make of Gilbert and George, and their gnomic utterances on the show didn’t really help me.

Having recently been introduced to the world of Twitter I decided to see what was being tweeted about it while it was happening.  Unsurprisingly the comments fell into two broad categories, those who are fans of the artists and were bemused at their participation in teatime telly, and those who were wondering ‘who are those blokes?’

So I’m not really any the wiser.

According to what  ‘those blokes’ said, I understood that art finds them, they don’t choose it.  While I’m prepared to believe that a tiny little bit, I think they are a bit disingenuous to imply that they are not selecting and editing, and presenting what they find in a particular way to satisfy their sensibility.

Still none the wiser, and now my interest in them is exhausted.

They did say something that made me laugh when I first heard it, and maybe they were joking, but it did make me think.

They don’t cook, ever.  It eliminates the need to shop, prepare, cook and wash up, thus freeing up time to find art; they eat out at the same restaurant every day instead.

I like eating, and occasionally cooking, too much to follow them on that route.  And given the evidence of all the cookery blogs out there in the digital world, there probably aren’t that many people who would sympathise with their sentiment that cooking takes up time that could be used more creatively.

There are, however, tasks which I dislike performing but which I allow to fill up time when I could be doing something better; tasks which others might regard as essential but for which I could find alternative ways to handle than having to do them myself.  Dusting and vacuuming are on the list, as well as washing the kitchen floor and waiting in line at the supermarket check out.

Watching rubbish on television would be number one on that roll call if it weren’t for the occasional weird gem that appears.

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