Today we went to the MOMA. I couldn’t wait. Going to the gallery is like seeing a long lost friend. There is the same combined feeling of excitement and warmth as you happen across the work of an artist you love. There is also the joy in rediscovering works of art that slip from memory. I love impressionism. Seeing a triptych of Monet’s waterlillies took my breath away. My only complaint is that I want more. In reality I guess a museum can only house so much.
I even like art that I don’t really get, if it makes me think. You know, why is this art, what is art? I like art that I don’t get at all but it makes me smile because I think that somewhere an artist who has a lot of chutzpah pulled a fast one and got away with it. Like the painting that is an all white canvas. But every now and then I see something that I just can’t wrap my head around. Years ago it was an installation of jars filled with so called bodily fluids – I’m still hoping they weren’t real. Today it was a vertical blind lying on the floor and roped off. I’m still not sure if it was art or something maintenance was in the middle of. Unlike the bodily fluids I know that the blind will not haunt my memory for the next 20 years. Does that make the fluids a better piece of art? Can someone explain this to me in a way that I’ll believe?
Yeah I know, art is subjective. What else ya got?