Art & the Arkansan

In the annals of storytelling there exists a particular favorite of Kyle Wittenberg. He has always been fond of recounting it but I must step in and steal his task today.

Kyle and I were out on a warm Friday evening circa spring of 2003 with another friend. This particular friend had many associates in the fine arts realm. One such associate was hosting a party. As we approached the apartment there was what I'd call "peculiar" music playing. This was the first sign that what we were about to enter was not really a party in the sense we were expecting. Just how ill suited the word "party" was impressed upon us when we opened the door. There were two people staring at us. Witty invoked God while I chose sanctified feces upon witnessing the spectacle. One person was wearing a phantom of the opera mask with a top hat and no shirt. The other, presumably female, had bed head like Rip Van Winkle, a torn white dress covered in what I hope was fake blood, and a make up job courtesy of Marilyn Manson. To round out the feeling the house was lit with a handful of rustic candles.

While our friend hovered between laughter and fascination, I leaned over to Witty and told him about my favorite bumper sticker: "Just because no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist." Though many disturbing things were witnessed in the five minutes before Kyle and I were able to make our exit it has become a memory we both look upon fondly.

The story and sticker highlight my relationship with much of the modern art world. Perhaps I suffer a little bit too much from my upbringing but I fail to make the connection between fetid beef and art. To be fair, there is a plethora of wonderful modern art it is just too often overshadowed by displays I don't care for. So when I went to the Pompidou today my excitement at seeing what has been described by two vastly different people (Morgane and Marce) as their "favorite museum in the world" was mildly tempered by my uneasy relationship with modern art.

I was duly impressed. There were numerous pieces that fascinated me (perhaps largely because I could understand them in a traditional sense) and there were also a few things that I'll politely refer to as "interesting." All told Beaubourg is an amazing space. It is everything that is great about modern art.
If I were to lodge a complaint it would be that I found it a bit confusing. I wasn't the only one. I kept running across a few packs of confused wandering Asian tourists and an inter-generational English family. It seems that this is perhaps once again more of a commentary on my ignorance than anything else.