It has been a while since the Turner prize really enraged me. Only yesterday I was praising it. This art prize often used to make my blood boil. Then in 2009, I was on the Turner jury: I didn’t annoy myself at all. I worked hard to make sure that every decision the jury made was one I was happy with – especially the winner, Richard Wright. Then, last year, there was a kind of OK, slightly so-so shortlist, no disgrace to the Turner, yet nothing to arouse my passions either way. But this year I fell in love with the art of George Shaw, and to see him shortlisted for the Turner then cast down as an also-ran infuriates and, to be honest, disgusts me. I had forgotten how stupid the Turner prize can be.
It’s nice to know other people are upset about George Shaw being snubbed for the Turner Prize.
Jonathan Jones being on the jury for the 2009 prize also explains my psychic visions. Peas in a pod him and I.
