I've gotten used to having the dissertation finished with astonishing speed, even though it was a thorn in my side for literally years. I credit this quick adjustment to the fact that I have a substitute obligation with which to flagellate myself waiting in the wings. Instead of constantly feeling like "I should be working on the dissertation," that inner directive has been replaced by the constant feeling that "I should be making some felt."
The problem is that finishing the dissertation took a lot out of me. I am creatively drained. My inner landscape was starting to look a lot like the Lord of the Flies, with this constant struggle. I should be making art. But I can't. But I should. But I can't. Gah.
The only thing to do in such a situation is the most counterintuitive thing possible – goof off. Be frivolous. Be silly. Do nothing remotely productive. And so, with this in mind, I set off to spend the day at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. I imagined skipping gleefully among the permanent collection, visiting old favorites and new treasures. Like all my museum visits, I started at the top.
You may remember my mentioning that the coffee place at the top of the museum makes one Mondrian cake per day, and I really wanted a piece of that cake. Here it is:
Pretty, isn't it? I actually wanted to take a picture of the cake sitting on top of Robert Arneson's head (or at least his statue's head) but the guard took umbrage. I found that to be particularly ironic, since Arneson was known for his irreverance and anarchism, and he would have absolutely approved of my photographing the cake on his head. No matter. As it turns out, the cake looks better than it tastes, but it was still a worthwhile endeavor.
I next went down to a special exhibit of Richard Avedon's photography, expecting to see a lot of his fashion work. There were a few iconic fashion images, but mostly there were portraits – amazing portraits. I was absolutely floored by a series taken of his father – from late middle age through two final photographs of his elderly father in a hospital gown. They were incredibly respectful and compassionate images, and they conveyed the human dignity underlying the indignity of aging. They were extremely powerful, absolutely devastating, and have stayed with me ever since.
I was then ready to refresh myself with the permanent collection – only to be disappointed. The entire second floor was closed to install the big 75th anniversary exhibit, and only a few paintings were available for viewing. But I had an epiphany about art appreciation that I thought I would pass along.
A lot of people are intimidated by contemporary art, and really, the thing you need to know about it is whatever you think and whatever you feel about it is valid. Most times, artists don't give you a lot of clues to tell you what their intentions were, and that is really the point. It's all about your reaction and figuring out what it means to you. And I suppose that lack of direction makes people uncomfortable, since so many of the images we are deluged with daily are specifically designed to be readily recognizable and understandable in less than 2 seconds.
So I've come up with a way to cheat and sound like you know what you're talking about when viewing contemporary art. If you are honestly flummoxed and have no idea what the heck that thing is supposed to be, just tell yourself "It's about the environment," and try to interpret it that way. It almost always works with modern art.
So, for example, here we have a Clifford Styll. This is actually one of my favorite paintings at the MOMA, and it is massive in scale. It is helpfully titled, "Untitled." It's about the environment:
And here we have a Phillippe Guston. Very different in style from the Styll, but also about the environment:
Finally, we have two Diebenkorns. Here is the first one – it's about the environment:
And finally, another Diebenkorn, also about the environment:
I hope that helps everyone feel better about contemporary art. It's all about the environment. Class dismissed.
that cake is just too cute.
I like the Styll best but, when you tell me it’s about the environment, I think of burning forests, not so happy.
Of course I could think of seeing lava flowing out of a volcano. Happier.
I love that Mondrian cake!
Your ‘it’s about the environment’ approach works if people are worried about not having anything to say about work, or concerned they don’t ‘get it,’ but I prefer just to say ‘I don’t get it,’ and to make a decision about whether or not I am going to invest any time in ‘getting it.’ I find that 99% of the time, a little extra investment (read around, check out a website, talk to the gallery etc.) is worth the time and it would be hard now for me to say what work I do/don’t like based on my first impression, since nearly all the art I like these days, I’ve studied a little…
Thank you for the pictures. I wanted to crawl through the screen to look closer.
Spending a day at the art museum is the best way to get ready to do art.
I believe the last painting is a commentary on social theory. Contemporary art leaves me cold. I like to see reality rendered in 2-D. After all, that’s my world.
Social theory? Explain!
Actually, Im pretty sure it is a landscape. Diebenkorn and Thiebaud both were playing around with perspective and a vertical orientation for landscape (rather than the typical horizontal). A lot of contemporary art is just a bunch of guys arsing around with conventional techniques. But I still like it.
Your world is 2-D?
Julia