Jimellow

I was at a Andrew Wyeth exhibit, and next to each painting there were placards with the title, date of creation, etc. Some of these cards included a write-up that basically told the viewer what the painting means and how it should be interpreted; not as told from the painter, mind you, but a "somebody" that wrote the cards.

Anyway, my dad and I were looking at these paintings, and after reading the commentary on the placardss started to discuss the issue of art being about individual interpretation, and not being hand fed the meaning of every painting. Later, we were viewing a painting of a tuft of feathers falling to Earth, and the placard said something in regards to Wyeth and his relationship with his mother. My dad and I looked at each other, smiled, and made some wisecrack comment about it not meaning that at all. Some art snob next to me, turned down his headphones on which he was getting some "guided tour," looked at me and said in a derisive tone "Why did he put it (the feathers) there then?"

It was a very ignorant thing to say, but it did tie in well with our earlier discussion. I'm of the mindset that appreciating art is not being told what a particular piece means, but instead viewing it with an open mind and then applying individual meaning, if any at all, to it.

Later on, we came across a painting, and the placard was quite wordy and compared the painting to Robin Hood. Yes, Robin Hood. My dad and I just looked at each other, then read it again to make sure, then starting laughing out loud. Unfortunately we had since passed the art snob so we were unable to get his take on that write-up.

The whole exhibit was frustrating to me. There was no communication between couples, and instead everyone was locked into their own little world with headphones droning on what this painting means, and why it should be interpreted this way, etc. It made me wonder if people are too lazy to think for themselves or if they just opt not to; instead relying on some outside source to tell them what this and that means.

The man's comment next to me was the lowlight of the exhibit though. My dad and I were talking very quietly, not disturbing anyone, and he had the nerve to chime in with his snide remarks. My only regret is not being quicker on the uptake in my response, as afterward I came up with quite a few nice, and also some inappropriate, responses to his comment.

The paintings themselves were very nice. I enjoyed the exhibit and being exposed to the art. I just wasn't fond of the setting and the seeming lack of discussion among couples viewing the art together.

__________________
Desperation is no excuse for lowering one's standards.