She's up and standing proud. Smashing photo taken from a Kiwi backpacker's magazine. Does her fame know no bounds?
But still some folk complain.
This was my response, published in the Guardian Comment feed, to this rather sweeping, damning and catty critique by Jonathan Jones
http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2012/oct/11/damien-hirst-statue-monstrosity?fb=native&CMP=FBCNETTXT9038
I think Mr Jones could have reserved judgement on this piece until it was actually standing in it's location rather than lying in pieces in a car park. As a cretinous, culturally illiterate, deluded Yokel I think Mr Hirst's statue is already, even at this supine stage, doing wonders for Ilfracombe. I spent £10.20 in the town on Wednesday, money which would have stayed in Barnstaple if it weren't for the statue. Incidentally, £4.40 of that went to Mr Hirst as my lady friend and I had a cappucicno in his fancy cafe. Once it is erected, standing on the pier dwarfed by the surrounding ocean, cliffs and tors my mates and I are very much looking forward every new moon to getting juiced up on Old Rat cider, dancing around the statue a hooping and a hollering, while brandishing flaming torches, and scattering burnt offerings over it's plinth before jumping naked into the sea. That's how we roll in these parts
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