What is art for a regular person like me?
Art must be everywhere despite us not recognizing it.
I went to Bozar tonight. It's an art & cultural center with tall ceilings and resonant sounds. They were featuring a painter I was curious to understand. His flat masterpieces showcased online caught my eye. I read that his name was Antoni Tàpies, he died in 2012, and that’s about all I knew when I arrived.
A long, marble colored table led up to the main exhibition. About 27 books were chained to it. Anyone could sit and read. Most people wandered through and didn't look down. Not a single person stayed. Does it mean anything? I'm not sure. I questioned it only after I saw what they went looking for.
Past the hallway, in a room connected with 3 or 4 more rooms, the artist Tàpies was on display. Large print signs attempted to explain what he attempted to express. People stood under them reading the jargon, dissecting the adjectives stringed together to describe his work. Employees in black uniforms wandered silently around the guests. I wondered if they wondered what everyone was feeling as they stared at the art.
On the walls in the various rooms were enormous wooden frames with concrete poured into them. Carving that looked like they were scratched with sharp nails created dimension for the pieces. Shirts and other objects that may have been found in a Milwaukee backyard were glued on top. If I'd seen one of Tàpies’ artworks on the street, would I be moved? The focal piece of the exhibition was a large, textured black installation with two white squiggles painted across it. I looked at it, and I wondered. If I saw his art in the street and knew it was his, would I be moved? I was feeling something because of the context of the room his art was displayed in; high ceilings, white walls, and chaperones ensuring I didn’t dare to touch. There was an atmosphere of holiness compelling me to worship. Without it, would I be stirred?
What if I took something on the street and put it into the same context, would I feel its art? Is the context itself art? If yes, art can be anything. It should be anything if it can look like concrete or wood with shirts glued on top. Maybe context serves to highlight art. We just need to move it there to know. Putting it into a museum and giving it that generous, honored label can’t be its definition. Art must be art in essence and the context makes it easier for us to know it's there.
On my way home, I passed by a construction site. They’re rebuilding a store and the windows are covered in cloudy white paint. In the center between the ceiling and the floor, a horizontal squiggle was drawn from end to end. A knockoff, Tàpies callback. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t gone to see his art. Maybe the purpose of tonight’s visit was just that; a reminder that art is in life and everywhere. Sometimes, we are lucky enough to recognize it out of context.
Provoking piece Yehudis. Beautiful picture. Beautiful smile. Enticing cold beer.
Art.