ABSTRACT
Artistic policy, the mere words alone. With their sound of imitation, accessory, false teeth. Artistic policy as a set of pearly whites: to bite and snap at culture. Sabres of the old-hat! But also: the suggestion of ‘makeability’. As if art were ‘makeable’ susceptible to policy, subject to political will. Complete illusion. Nothing that lives is ‘makeable’, one cannot will art into being. Art arises, it grows - it is born, not made. The muse is unpredictable, unwieldy. She is divine, that is to say: immortal, and without masters above her. No-one can look into her face, no mortal has ever been able to say exactly what art is, or been able to put their finger on beauty, goodness or truth. Nonetheless, art must be subject to ‘policy’.
