You shouldn't have to suffer for your art

I was really saddened to hear about Amy Winehouse's death. I wasn't a particular fan, although I respected her music - she obviously had something special. In hindsight, if you look at all the media coverage throughout her career, something like this seemed inevitable, but was it?

We generally like our artists to be tortured - it's much more interesting to read about a bad childhood, poverty or some sort of addiction than about the average person with their average dysfunctions. And watching those demons manifest themselves in such an amplified way - through the papers, the internet, or in front of a packed stadium, is even more intriguing.

But it's not an artist's job to be tortured, even though it might seem to be in the job description. It's their job to do what they do as best they can, like anyone else. We make a mistake - and sometimes tragically so - if, as artists or audience, we expect anything else.

Relics and superstition

Went to see the British Museum’s new exhibition, Treasures of Heaven, this week, all about medieval relics. I have to admit to a certain ghoulish fascination with the Middle Ages’ morbid approach to religion, the petrified faces of their icons drawing me in almost involuntarily. There weren’t so many icons here, but reliquaries, and lots of them, including many religious souvenirs from the period inspired by the blood of its saints and martyrs.

It was tempting to go into the exhibition in the spirit of today’s age and think, of course I would never be so simple as to think an object like that could either save my soul, keep me safe or bring me good luck … but when you think about it, we probably have no less “relics” in our own society, they’re just different. Only the other day on the news I heard about an auction of Princess Diana’s “Travolta dress” (the one she danced in with John Travolta in 1985) for $800,000 … and what about the lucky number, pen, necklace, seat, pair of shoes – you name it – that, consciously or unconsciously, we use as a little bit of a good luck charm to help us on our way. When I think about it, I probably behave superstitiously more often than I care to admit.

I was also surprised at my own reaction to some of the pieces. Even though I knew the authenticity of many of the relics were, at best, questionable, I couldn’t help but be drawn in by one or two. A perfectly formed pendant purporting to contain “a thorn from Christ’s crown of thorns” momentarily took my breath away, as did a pair of gloves King Charles I was said to have worn moments before his execution (apparently there are at least two other such pairs in existence). Just for a second, I imagined, what if they really were – how awe-inspiring would that be? I couldn’t help but be slightly swept away.

It was a reminder not to be so cocksure about my own reality - at least, that is, until I came out blinking from the exhibition into the harsh light of the shop – where a host of the museum’s own relics were calling out to be purchased.