And now for something else completely different – or is it?
I could well argue that cricket is itself a form of art, most probably performance art, even if it has created little even goodish art. The walls generally full of quite markedly bad portraits at Lord’s illustrate the point (for those who don’t know about these things, Lord’s cricket ground in St John’s Wood, London, is the cricket centre of and for the universe, and the magnificent Victorian pavilion is a Grade 1 Listed Historic Building).
This last week has witnessed there an inter-galactic struggle for the Championship of the Universe between Middlesex and (the aliens) Yorkshire (their spaceship is parked somewhat incompatibly on top of the stands, upper centre). The latter lost at almost literally the last gasp after a skilled and titanic battle over four – yes, FOUR – days. I was there for three of them. Somerset, who were leading for much of the game and could have won, were not there at all.
The photograph below, itself arguably a work of art, shows the view, Middlesex fielding, Yorkshire batting, from the top of the pavilion of a (carefully-chosen, artistically-speaking) moment (4.47 p.m. to be precise) in the game during the afternoon of the second day (21 September, 2016): the scene and the medium are art. I, and Dada, have spoke.