Glass panels, steel frames, a sterile 5% formaldehyde solution, and a colossal tiger shark - these are the ingredients Damien Hirst utilized to craft his now-iconic piece, “The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living,” or more colloquially known as “The Shark” (1991). Suspended in its chemical bath, the preserved predator commands attention with its imposing presence and visceral symbolism. As viewers confront the eerie spectacle, they are drawn into a provocative exploration of life, death, and the human condition—an exploration that is as unsettling as it is profound. Hirst's artwork transcends the boundaries of traditional artistic expression. Yet, beneath the surface spectacle lies a complex web of controversies, criticisms, and ethical concerns that invite a deeper examination of the artwork's significance and impact on the art world. While Damien Hirst's shark undeniably provokes profound contemplation on mortality and the human condition, its artistic merit is ultimately overshadowed by the artist's relentless commercialization, which undermines the artwork's originality and raises ethical concerns about animal treatment.

Damien Hirst’s fascination with death and the preservation of animals can be traced back to his earliest artistic endeavors. Before becoming the multi-millionaire and often controversial figure known today, Hirst grew up in a working-class household in Bristol, England. During these formative years, he developed a keen interest in art, eventually attending classes and studying fine arts at university. It was within these artistic circles that Hirst became involved with the Young British Artists (YBAs), a loose collective known for their provocative and often shocking works. In 1988, Hirst co-curated (some argue single-handedly curated) a now-legendary exhibition titled "Freeze" that showcased the works of several YBAs. His opening piece, "With Dead Head," featured a photograph of Hirst holding a severed human head, obtained during his time working in a morgue, displayed alongside the actual head preserved in formaldehyde. This raw and confrontational work, while human rather than animal, foreshadowed the larger-scale explorations of mortality and the human body that would come to define Hirst's artistic journey. "With Dead Head" marked one of the first instances where an artist used such a visceral representation of death to challenge societal taboos surrounding mortality and human remains. Hirst's willingness to confront such sensitive subjects and provoke strong reactions from viewers became a hallmark of his artistic approach. The "Freeze" exhibition received critical acclaim, launching the careers of many YBAs, including Hirst himself.

Hirst's fascination with death and the animal kingdom continued to fuel his artistic vision, culminating in the creation of the shark. The concept stemmed from his ongoing exploration of mortality and a personal fascination with marine life. In the late 1980s, Hirst approached an Australian shark hunter and commissioned him to catch a tiger shark specifically for this artwork. The colossal creature was then preserved in formaldehyde, a chemical solution commonly used in embalming, effectively halting the natural process of decay. Similar to "With Dead Head," this piece served as a powerful confrontation of mortality. The once-fearsome predator now hangs suspended in a state of perpetual lifelessness, prompting viewers to contemplate their own transient existence. From a technical standpoint, the preservation required immense skill in taxidermy and meticulous attention to detail. Suspending a gigantic dead animal in liquid and ensuring its longevity for public viewing was a process that reportedly took Hirst months to master. The final creation – a seemingly life-size tiger shark floating serenely within the formaldehyde solution – became one of the most talked-about pieces of modern art, sparking reflection on the complex relationship humanity has with the natural world and beyond. This groundbreaking piece transcended the art world, capturing the imagination of a wider audience and becoming a cultural phenomenon.

Many, however, saw through the emotions and acclaim and were quick to bring up the boundless ethical issues of using deceased creatures as artistic materials. Hirst provides little to no detail regarding the sourcing and conditions under which these animals were obtained. This lack of transparency raises questions regarding whether Hirst adheres to ethical guidelines for the treatment of animals and the environment. For the tiger shark used in Hirst’s shark, this species is classified as “near threatened” by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). While not necessarily endangered, this designation means their population faces serious threats from overfishing, pollution, and habitat destruction, and the killing of this shark for art goes against the countless conservation efforts made by environmentalists. Furthermore, the exploitation of protected animals and the reduction of a magnificent shark to a mere object of spectacle leaves a distinctly bitter taste. No matter how beautiful the exhibit may be, the fact remains that these animals were killed for human pleasure and as a commodity. Hirst’s clear focus on the consumer audience stretches far beyond the ethical concerns of animal preservation and environmental conservation. His willingness to sacrifice the lives of creatures for artistic gain highlights the darker underbelly of the art world and raises important questions about the responsibility of artists to consider the broader implications of their work on the natural world and future generations.

While Hirst’s shark was initially commissioned by collector Charles Saatchi, Hirst's later decision to mass-produce editions of the artwork stands as a quintessential example of his push towards commercialization and commodification. Initially, Hirst used the hysteria surrounding his pieces to drive critical thinking and discussion, yet he now leverages it to generate substantial financial returns. He established a mass production factory, perfectly calculating a strategy to capitalize on his artificial fame and market appeal, eventually selling the pieces for millions. By transforming the preserved shark into a highly sought-after commodity, Hirst blurs the line between artistry and commerce, prioritizing profit over artistic integrity. Hirst utilizes other artists to make his pieces for him, despite selling them as original “Damien Hirst” creations. While many artists utilize assistants to help streamline their creation process, Hirst takes it to another level. He collaborated with several technicians, taxidermists, preservationists, and artists like himself to be able to mass-produce his artwork, yet frustratingly, this credit appears to be lost in regards to the pieces themselves. When asked why he didn't do any of his own work anymore, he responded quite sharply, “Because I couldn't be f***ing arsed doing it.” Yet, these paintings still sell for millions with a Hirst label, and his net worth keeps rising. The original “Freeze” exhibit was held in a run-down factory, with the artworks being the main focus of the exhibition. Yet, Hirst's recent marketing strategies concerning the shark appear to be taking a completely opposite direction from his humble beginnings. As Hirst relentlessly pursues continued commercial success, selling out to luxury brand collaborations and further compromising his artistic integrity.

Damien Hirst’s “The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living” transcends its status as a mere artwork to become a profound exhibition on the human condition and the nature of mankind itself. The colossal predator, frozen in a sterile solution, becomes a mirror reflecting our own impermanence. Through this stark juxtaposition of life and death, Hirst confronts viewers with the fundamental realities of mortality. The artwork goes beyond its visual impact, sparking a wave of uncertainty and questioning whether we are any different from this magnificent creature now resigned to a silent form. We desperately cling to life, yet the shark only amplifies the ever-present reality of death. While the artwork’s power is undeniable, Hirst’s relentless commercialization of this profound statement into a mass-produced image and allegations of plagiarism and outsourcing of labor cast severe doubt on Hirst's claim of artistic authorship and originality. It makes me question his motives - is this artistic genius or a calculated manipulation of the market? Despite these complexities, the artwork remains a powerful and thought-provoking confrontation of the finitude of existence. Perhaps that's the true genius of this piece - its ability to compel us to grapple with the taboo and difficult topic of mortality. Damien Hirst’s shark, in its silent form, serves as a powerful call to action. By reminding us of our limited time, the artwork compels us to make the most of our existence, to live with purpose, and to leave our own mark on the world before we too become suspended in a formaldehyde memory.