Art, schmart

This past week, my company took us on a field trip to the Carnegie Museum to see the "Life on Mars" exhibition. The last time I was there was a few years ago, when my company took us on a field trip to see whatever that exhibition was (that is right, I have no clue; cannot remember a single thing I saw only two or three years ago). I can say that between trips, I don't feel as if I have missed anything, and I am just not sure I would go on my own, even though we received a membership to the four museums at Christmas.

First of all, I am not an artsy person. I bought a few pictures when we bought our house, and by looking at them, it is clear I don't have an eye for art. To be fair, we all have different tastes, but no one will ever walk into my home and rave over any of the art on my wall. But when it comes to a lot of stuff at museums, I just don't "get" most of the pieces.

Some guy threw some crystal balls, not much bigger than tennis balls, across one of the rooms. Rather than seeing that as art, it was more of a walking hazard. The sculpture of the chair and the dog that had a rat attached to it? Nope, just was not feeling it. And the painting of outer space, which was basically a bunch of white dots on a black background, although it seemed kind of cool, did not seem impressive enough to warrant some prize. How about earth painted on newspaper? Different, sure, but I am pretty sure my friend Mel could have made a far better picture than that. And the graffiti exhibit, with all the bold colors and geometric shapes, pretty much just made me dizzy.

I am guessing the only thing that will leave a lasting impression is the "cave," which was a kazillion pieces of cardboard and packaging tape plastered all over the hilly floors with pages of books taped to various walls. One of the rooms in the cave had quite a few posters of half-naked women and bands. I think all the rooms had figures made of aluminum foil, attached to dynamite, as well as empty pop cans. Was the message that if you are too into naked women, rock bands, and sugary drinks, your mind is pretty much disintegrated? I have no idea. I probably should have read the program description.

The other thing I don't like about museums is you cannot touch anything. I can remember being at the Warhol probably close to 10 years ago, and I touched a painting specifically because a sign said not to (at least some things at the Warhol you can touch). When I got to the other side of the painting, I read the comment that it was painted with urine. Yep, that pretty much learned me! But while at the Carnegie, one of the guards actually told one of my coworkers not to point or something like that. He and I were getting kind of close, and although neither of us was touching the painting, I guess we were making the guard nervous. Too strict for me.

And equally annoying was our docent kept asking us questions, trying to see what we thought something meant or what the artist was feeling. Lady, I have been out of school for about 15 years now. If I wanted to think such deep thoughts, I would go back! Regardless, I am guessing she probably did not appreciate my various comments, such as "I could paint a picture black and throw in some white dots" and "I could buy some chairs from Steelcase, put them in a circle, and call that art too."

I guess I need to go back to the Children's Museum.


Mel said…
I was chuckling as I read this... and I was glad I was not your docent! ; )

If I am the "mel" then I thank you for your vote of confidence. if I'm not, I am still hopeful I could make something better than what you described.

Remember, though, that your membership also includes the delightful CMNH and Science Center. Dinos, anyone? Even that creepy hall of stuffed birds is better than urine-stained canvas and paper caves.
Facie :-) said…

Yep, you! Even the Don, who was in our tour group, had some negative comments, so I was not alone.

We have been to the CSC, but sadly only once this year. I might still take Jordan to the Warhol, and, yeah, she might like the dinos. That place at least involves less thinking. I don't like it when my brain hurts that much!

Popular posts from this blog


My first and hopefully my last biposy (or I would rather be at the beach)

Why I am an "Other"