At Easter, I was talking to a homeless guy on George street. He said to me, "I was 15 down, but you made it 14". When I asked him what he meant he replied that on a good day, he gets 3 people an hour stop to give him some change. But that day I was the first person in five hours who had stopped. First of all - 3 people an hour? What the fuck is wrong with everyone? Second, five hours with no-one stopping at all? I repeat the fucking aforementioned interrogative.
What the fuck purpose does it serve to put these together as a "work of art" in a fucking museum? Here's a thought: go outside, walk for two minutes in any direction and you can see your own "real life" fucking version, where you can contribute to the actual cause, rather than sigh, think profound thoughts, vow to give to the next vagrant you see, and then promptly forget about it as you are struck by the next inspiring piece of self-congratulatory, furiously ego-wanking "artwork".
My question is this; how does such a collection raise awareness, as it were? Is it because these signs in their original context are rarely read due to the head-down pretend there's no-one there response most beggars prompt? If so, how is setting the signs out so aesthetically (most notably, without their human author present) going to change anyone's reactions? If you can't have compassion when the face of the poor is staring you in the face how the hell is going to a posh fucking museum where people happily pay extortionate amounts for stupid postcards going to make any difference?
And isn't it exploitative? Yeah OK, the artist paid for the signs, good job, real social awareness there, but isn't it, in fact, going to eventually benefit that same artist, if not in immediate monetary reward, then at least in increasing exposure to his/her work, which presumably would be hoped to lead to financial gain at some point in the future?
I'll admit it is possible that I missed the point. Perhaps the artist is actually incredibly socially oriented and works hard for a multitude of causes and produces art fit for the Museum of Contemporary Art in their spare time. Fuck knows. But art should stand on its own should it not? This piece to me seemed to stand on the fucking tired feet of those who would better use them to congregate around the Museum door and demand fair recompense for their lives on display.