Posted by
Dave on Wednesday, November 14, 2007 12:51:52 AM
I've never been an expert at art, and until just
a few years ago, I didn't really even take an interest in enjoying it.
When I moved back to Baton Rouge in the late 1990s, I started going
over to New Orleans quite often, and I found myself enjoying looking
through the various galleries in the French Quarter, just enjoying the
various works (typically while sipping on an "adult" beverage of some
sort).
Over the years, I have really come to enjoy looking at
art in general, and some of my favorite time spent in the Big Easy
still involves walking around the galleries, usually during the day on
a Saturday or Sunday of a long weekend road trip. Since moving to
Houston, I've been able to get on various mailing lists for openings at
a couple of different galleries; sipping wine and looking at art is a
great start to the evening.
I've found that I prefer works that
aren't "obvious"; I'm not a big fan of the Impressionists. Fields of
flowers or bowls of fruit just don't do it for me. What really pulls
me in are typically paintings that make you wonder what's going on outside
the painting, off the edges, or paintings where the use of color is
very striking and evokes a certain mood, or paintings that are a bit
bizarre and might have something different each time they are viewed.
There
are a few artists that always seem to catch my eye, some obvious,
others maybe less well known and not so obvious. Robert Cook comes to
mind as someone who uses colors so adeptly that even the most stark
painting catches your attention. Similarly, Jose Basso paints what is
essentially the same landscape in Chile in every painting I've seen by
him, yet the colors draw your eye each time.
My real favorites,
however, seem to be Surrealists, so of course I have become a huge fan
of Salvador Dali. I love the way his paintings typically hold such
bizarre elements, but still invite the viewer in for more (in some
cases, to discover things even more bizarre). I was, most likely like
most fans, first drawn to Dali by the painting Persistence of Memory,
which I would say is his most famous. Typically when I mention it to
someone, if they don't recognize the painting by name they instantly
recognize the "melting" clocks. Something about that painting never
fails to catch my eye -- not just the clocks themselves but the
desolate scenery. It is my favorite by far.
When traveling, I
now try to catch a Dali (sounds like there should be some sort of pun
there, doesn't it?) whenever possible; I even went to the Dali Museum
in St. Petersburg (Florida, unfortunately, not Russia) -- I highly
recommend it, even if you don't consider yourself a big "fan" of his
work, because he has so many different styles that I think there's something for everyone and anyone there.
Other
surrealists I've come to like (I'm using the "small 's'" designation
because I'm not necessarily sure whether or not the artists are
considered "formally" part of the Surrealist movement; forgive my
ignorance, but I'm speaking more in terms of tone and style than strict
definition) include Rene Magritte and Jordan Ivanov. The Menil
Collection museum in Houston has a great exhibition of surrealists
taking up nearly 3 rooms; I'm told they have a Dali as well but it
hasn't been on display when I've visited.
My
last trip to New Orleans featured one of my aforementioned strolls
through the galleries. It was, perhaps, the most fruitful such trip
I've ever had, as I walked into a rather nondescript-looking gallery
and found a treasure trove of etchings: by Matisse, by Picasso, and,
yes, by Dali himself. Each of these works was for sale (the least
expensive Dali I saw was about $10,000; the one I liked best was
something around $100,000. I don't expect to get it for Christmas
although you can bet it'll be on my list).
This gallery also
introduced me to an artist mentioned above: Jose Basso. If you've
never seen his work, I highly recommend it. The proprietor of the
gallery was very excited about his future, and from what I saw it was
with good reason.
Further down the street, I came upon some more
enjoyable works, but my last trip was into a place with several works
by another artist I mentioned previously, Robert Cook. I had first
seen Cook at a couple of galleries in the Quarter a few years ago,
before Katrina. His name had slipped my mind, but I had vivid memory
of several of his works. Seeing his paintings again scratched the itch
of remembrance. All-in-all, it was a great afternoon.
Then,
this past weekend, I found myself in New York, home of the famous
Museum of Modern Art. I decided to check it out and to finally see
Persistence of Memory.
While wandering through the rooms past some paintings based on the
Civil War that reminded me of ink-blot Rorshach tests and -- I'm not
kidding -- plain white canvases that supposedly speak of the starkness
of existence, I came upon a famous work:
Starry Starry Night
by Vincent van Gogh. I mentioned above my dislike for Impressionists,
so it shouldn't be surprised that I was basically unimpressed. Yet the
next two paintings were great and much more interesting. One was by
Edvard Munch, famous for
The Scream, and while I don't recall the name I thought it was more interesting than his more famous work.
Finally I made it to the 5th floor, where
Persistence is supposed to be.
Supposed to be, because I was greeted by an announcement that
Persistence
is on loan. In Los Angeles. So I didn't get to see it, but did get to
see their "other" Dali, which was pretty cool: it was a series of
paintings on glass plates, arranged to invoke a 3-D effect.
I
don't know a lot about art (as I'm sure many have realized long before
now), but I do know what I like, and I think that's good enough.
Snobbery is overrated in a lot of areas, and as long as a person is at
least open to expanding his horizons, I think that's a positive thing.
Some artistic works, whether songs, paintings, movies, or books, are
made simply for enjoyment, to better our lives. Others have a more
serious, deeper purpose. To me, a single piece of art can be either
one or both, depending on the viewer, and I do believe that a work can
take on new meaning to the beholder beyond or even unrelated to what
the artist originally intended. That's perhaps what I enjoy most.