Bullet Hole is the title of a 1988 artwork by British artist Mat Collishaw. The work consists of a photo of a bullet wound to the head appropriated from a pathology manual and blown up over an interlocking grid of fifteen separate framed images that make up one single work. It first went on show in the Exhibition Freeze, organized by Damien Hirst.
The work has become synonymous with the perceived ethos of the YBA art scene, in particular the reuse of imagery that is seemingly repulsive or shocking.
The photographs were described by Ian Jeffrey, in a catalogue essay for the Freeze exhibition as a "freeze-frame" and hence prompted the title of that exhibition.[1]
References [link]
- ^ Jessica Lack, "Artist of the week no 1: Mat Collishaw," The Guardian, July 23, 2008.
https://wn.com/Bullet_Hole
Podcasts:
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by Haunted
Bullet Hole
by: HauntedBreaking in and entering,
my will is the law.
I feel the scent of innocence
and I know it's all about to fall.
Never repent or change, [x2]
never submit or yield. [x2]
Trespassing holy ground,
reveal your secrets.
Unlock these private boundaries.
I'll grant you one more dream.
Never repent or change, [x2]
never submit or yield. [x2]
I have an urge to kill.
I have an urge to rise above my victim.
To see their life blood fade away.
I have an urge to feast upon the weak.
You're mine
every goddamn time.
Crowbar my tool of trade.
Duct-tape and a six inch switchblade.
My love is a Stanley-knife.
My love is the fear in your eyes.
Never repent or change, [x2]
never submit or yield. [x2]
I have an urge to kill.
I have an urge to rise above my victim.
To see their life blood fade away.
I have an urge to feast upon the weak.
You're mine
every goddamn time.
[spoken]
You think you're safe in your suburban dreamscape.
Well, I could change all that...
I bide my time...you're such sweet meat...
I enter
you're screaming.
One gunshot
you're bleeding.
Dead silence
relieves me.
You're open wide
to see me...
Never repent or change,
never submit or yield.
I have an urge to kill.
I have an urge to rise above my victim.
To see their life blood fade away.
I have an urge to feast upon the weak.
You're mine