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From: cribs Category: Art Date: 16 March 2007 Time: 04:32 PM Review: This weeks New Yorker gives an American impression of Britain's favourite art prize. What I like is the spurious modesty and self-importance of most of the artists. Like Abts and Collins deliberating over whether they'll accept the nomination. Their precious mediocre art might be distorted by the media. The problem with their enormous care about themselves and their art is that what they do is pretty rubbish, so their self-regard seem even more overblown. Somehow this attitude connect up with the general shitness of art. Like seriousness of the artist is in inverse proportion to serious ideas. The only one who despite the reporter talking about his groupies who came out with credit is Mark Titchner: at least he seemed upset when he lost. The others are all fashionably cool and serious. Makes you want to vomit.