well, it appears to have got you far more worked up than me - perhaps you should reflect more on your own sensitivity to even the mildest of criticisms
I’m not sensitive (I’m not a visual artist), but I am quite passionate about the virtues of experimental and conceptual art, and find myself diving into this sort of debate quite a lot just around now.
you don't appear to have addressed the salient point as to what constitutes "art" however - in this case it seems little more than the actions of a man with a qualification from a top art school - how can a reproduction be considered art worthy of merit where the original is not? In this case has art not been reduced to little more than a designer label to signifiy that yes it is art, and yes it is of merit?
When was art anything other than, first and foremost, a commodity? If people are willing to pay for it and put it in galleries then any claim that it isn’t art is essentially meaningless.
Over and above that cold, hard fact, the definition and function of art has changed dramatically in the latter half of the 20th century. This idea of art as some sort of locus of public virtue – a conduit to the masses of the Arnoldian ‘sweetness and light’ of high culture – was a short lived construct, meaningful only in that brief sliver of time after the work of art was available to a good slice of the population, and before the majority of visual stimuli generated by culture became advertising and graphic design.
We cannot, now, define art as ‘well-crafted, edifying images’, or at least not without conceding that Benetton adverts and episodes of The Wire count as art. Since it seems pretty clear that they don’t, art needs to be doing something else now – which it is. It’s not Wallinger, or the Turner judge’s, fault that the previous idea of art lingers.
The question is why award the replicator and not the originator? Had the original creator been to art school, should he have been the winner instead?
The still life analogy is a good one here. The act of a still life artist is not just to paint a big bowl of fruit – if that was the case then you could indeed argue that whoever arranged the stuff in the first place was the artist.
For me, the act of the artist is a mental (indeed, a ‘conceptual’ one). It’s the act of saying ‘this arrangement is important (because of it’s beauty, because it evokes thoughts of transcendence and/or mortality) and that importance is worth capturing’. Everything else is just technique. If done well, it can make you think of something in a different way – which, I’d argue, Wallinger does brilliantly here.
Out in Westminster Square you can feel an vague solidarity or irritation with Hawes as you pass, or ignore him, or whatever. In the gallery, all of the easy, unconsidered things to think and feel about his protest disappear and you’re forced to try and figure out what you’re looking at, what’s important about it, whether it’s anything more than context that make it meaningful and if so, what?