Bev, my agent, has booked me in for one of those corporate jobs. I'm not normally one to prostitute my art, but the gas bill has just arrived.
On the one or two previous occasions I've presented corporate videos, I've always been struck by the appalling taste in art these large organisations possess. One company had an enormous statue of a naked Greek god proudly standing in front of its revolving doors, greeting all and sundry with the unavoidable sight of its rather over-exaggerated but nonetheless muscular buttocks. But the prize for the best example of arse gratia artis must go to a well-known utility company based in the Home Counties.
When this particular company moved into its shiny new glass palace, the then CEO decided that what it really needed to finish the whole thing off was a statue of a prancing stallion on the roundabout which stood between the east and the west wings. He owned several Ferraris, I seem to recall. However, the artist must have latched on to the testosterone fuelled nature of this commission, and endowed the statue with the heftiest set of equine testicles ever to grace a company forecourt. After a few weeks, and a myriad of complaints, the crestfallen artist was recalled and made to remove the offending spheres with an angle grinder.
The Deputy CEO told me that story, whilst we were waiting for the cameras to be set up. He was a much more amiable cove than the top man, and had therefore been chosen to be the face of the company. His office was on the opposite side of the building to the CEO's. 'He gets to look at the horse's head, and I get to stare at the arse all day,' I remember him saying. 'Shows which way my career's going.' Sure enough, he was history within a year.
