When I first took on this job my mother advised me that, seeing as artists are reputed to be sensitive souls, I ought to be careful about what I say for fear of offending people.

Unfortunately it looks like I've forgotten her words of wisdom, or at least some artists in Bermuda seem to think I have.

A couple of months ago craftsman Dan Dempster, in a rather ill-tempered letter to The Royal Gazette , invited his fellow artists to get their revenge on yours truly by entering pieces for this show.

Feeling continually under the cosh, Mr. Dempster argued it was about time the spotlight fell on me.

This, in other words, was supposed to be a chance for the art community to answer back to all those nasty things I've written about them in the past year, a chance to defend themselves and what they do against some philistine who obviously doesn't know what he's talking about. (I am after all an expat who's just stepped off the boat).

To be honest, I always thought the best way of answering criticism was to prove your critics wrong. So what would this show present us with? Some outstanding pieces of work perhaps, sublime, enlightening, thought-provoking, accomplished or even something just plain beautiful to look at -- something quite simply beyond criticism.

Unfortunately not. I must admit to feeling slightly disappointed with the few exhibits here. At the very least I was hoping for a bit of wit, some constructive response, some reasoned argument to counter my own opinions.

What we do have is a few personal attacks on my intelligence and a few newspaper cuttings reminding everyone of my inglorious criminal career. ( A drink driving conviction from a year ago I'm ashamed to say -- sorry Mum, another bit of advice I momentarily forgot).

A few examples. Manual Palacio's Picassoesque pig above a Royal Gazette banner (I thought pigs are meant to be intelligent, warm and lovable) and the word DUNCE printed in bold black letters against a white canvas by John Gardner.

(Calling somebody thick just because they have a different opinion to you is surely not the greatest expression of intelligence).

It seems that, while wanting to cry foul every time I say or think something is crap, there doesn't seem to be much of a constructive response to my criticisms when artists give themselves the opportunity to do so.

Whatever I say about this review will sound like sour grapes, but that's not how I feel about it. In fact I was extremely flattered by the idea, just a little disappointed by the results.

Perhaps that's the point. Clearly not much thought has gone into this show but maybe that's the statement that's being made here. `You don't put much effort into your reviews Finighan, why should we bother with our art?' I am not a painter, which is why I have never put anything in an exhibition.

But if all our artists can come up with is a few personal attacks and a bit of nursery-school humour then clearly they are not critics either. My advice? Stick to the painting boys, leave the criticism to the professionals.

Gareth Finighan