Text written in response to a request for produce a ‘statement’ to accompany an artwork - Stall - commissioned for the Financial Services Authority’s Canary Wharf HQ foyer – a ‘flower-stall’ made from plastic cleaning implements and black plastic buckets.

By way of addressing aspects of the work in the foyer, ‘Stall’, Part Art presents the comments below. They are taken from
an interview that Part Art conducted with a flower seller at New Covent Garden Market earlier this month.

‘You’re suggesting that my flower stall is a work of art. That is absurd.

It’s only a work of art if art is something that you can’t use; if it’s something that’s beautiful – more than everyday things. It’s art if it’s something that you can’t touch as in somewhere like a gallery. People buy my flowers thank goodness so they change not like stuff in a museum. And they take them home and do their own thing with them you know stick them in
their favourite vase […] But then again there’s one or two bits and pieces in the art line that I’d like to have myself; up
close and personal so to speak. One of those Monet’s - the lilies would be nice - other than the poster. Now I’d go for
that. […]

When I set out my stall each morning I take my time putting the big ones at the back and then the little ones at the
front and making sure it looks tidy but “composition” – you must be joking! […] Though I do like a good burst of yellow.

Maybe it’s also a work of art if the flowers are so exotic to make you think that they’re unnatural. Most of mine come from
all round the world places I never get to on my holidays. And they’re not cheap. But I would argue that this is what we’ve come to with all this GM stuff and the weather. These flowers – they’ve been bred a bit like that sheep that was born in Scotland so maybe they’re a work of art and the sheep as well. There isn’t much that’s still natural out there apart from
you and me.

But then if my stall was a work of art and I was an artist I could get that Saatchi to buy up my tubs and then I could retire from all weathers and the early starts; up at 3 o’clock I am every week day. I bet that’s when you art types hit the sack. Maybe I could be an artist - one of those modern sorts – you know the ones who just rearrange things - the shark and
the bed. Easy. And then I would have time for the garden not that I’m into flowers when I’m at home […]'