Ping pong poo

OH and I have had a lovely 29 (yep! We were counting) hours away this weekend. We’ve seen some brilliant art: Barbara Hepworth, Martin Parr, Duncan Grant, Edward Weston, Anthony Devas, and lots Moore (see what I did there?).

And then there was the Hirst. It’s called ‘Relationships’ from 1991. It consists of a ping pong ball in a glass of water. This is standing on a rough sketch of rectangles and circles, and what could be a submarine/inverted hairdryer.


OH wondered if 18/125 was the mark Hirst’s primary school teacher had given the project!

I found myself very annoyed by this ‘piece’. I had laughed at the wine bottle (glass and paper) and even the empty pizza boxes amused me. Partly as they were situated near a pile of clipboards, which, on further investigation turned out to be indeed a pile of clipboards. But ‘Relationships’ really annoyed me. I still don’t know why. So I’ve written a small poem about it in an attempt to work it out.

(Clears throat) Ahem….

Ping Pong Poo

If you’re a famous artist
But you’re short of cash
Just chuck a ping pong ball
Into a cheap looking glass.

Sit it on a sketch
You got a 5 year old to draw
Put it in a case
And make 124 more.

Call it something ponderous
‘Relationships’ will suffice,
Then offer it to the Arts Council
Who’ll snap it up in a trice.

Sit back and lap up the adoration,
Laugh all the way to the bank.
Care not a jot for those who mock,
It was easier than a shark in a tank.

Oh dear. That didn’t help me work out why I felt so annoyed with it. Oh well. Answers on a twitter postcard please.


1 thought on “Ping pong poo”

  1. No, but it’s a great poem nontheless!
    Perhaps it’s because relationships can’t really be summed up by a ball in a glass? Although now you’ve got me looking for some sort of hidden metaphor… Hmm.

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