An open letter to Tracey Emin:
I know that you are fashionable among the rich collectors you have cultivated as 'friends', and I understand that you, like so many before you, are simply doing what you do to make money. But the reality is that besides this little clique of investors you aren't fooling anyone.
Your work, like so many of your YBA contemporaries, is just the rehashing of the history of art - continually recycled cliches that you steal from dead artists who often had more talent, more expressiveness, in their morning shit than you do in your entire body of work.
It's not that you make money that's the problem, nor is it that you have made a name for yourself despite (or perhaps because) of your total lack of talent. It's that you spout off the same rubbish you were taught in art school, that you continue to perpetuate the lie that art is something that must be taught to be understood, that there is some enigmatic deeper meaning to an unmade bed, that creativity and creation are no longer relevant to art.
The banality of what you sell, the propaganda with which you make yourself richer, the idiocy of the illusion that art is anything more than experience, and the deification of artists and the objectification of their work does a disservice to the history of art and to the people who might otherwise enjoy and support those who actually are artists.
I would ask you to stop, to stop hurting art in the name of money, to stop perpetuating this fallacy you call art, but I know that it would be pointless. After all, how will you pay for your French villa, your overpriced drugs and your lifestyle of excess?
Instead I simply want you to know that we see right through you, we see the things you make for the financial illusion they really are. We know that what you do is not really art, it is merely marketing in disguise.
documentation by Cartrain & Co.