I have never considered myself a particularly artsy person. In fact, my greatest artistic accomplishment has probably been finger painting, or those awful recorders elementary schools shove in the hands of fumbling children (me included).
However, I have come to the conclusion that my lack of artistic skill inclines me to appreciate those with talent even more. I imagine a canvas is to an artist as an empty page is to me: a way to broadcast your perspective of the world. So, in honor of those who can draw more than a stick figure, and in honor of
paint it blue and staple it , I went to the Salt Lake City Arts Festival.
There were a lot of a pieces that I found fascinating; photographers who were able to take photographs so surreal at first glance you mistook them for a painting. Craftsmen who carved astounding wood pieces, and graffiti artists who could do things with spray paint that I couldn't do with a camera.
But then there is this sort of nonsense:
This, my dear friends, is a piece of modern art work that has been featured at the Tate Gallery (which, if you were unaware, is a very prestigious art museum). While also called "The Bricks", its original title is "Equivalent VIII." I appreciate alternative art, but when I see a pile of bricks on display I just want to pull the snooty intellectual aside who made this executive decision and slap them. Dude. You bought the project in my backyard my dad never got around to finishing.
I appreciate modern art, I really do. There is Banksy, there is 3D chalk art, there are sculptures from old car parts... which can be spontaneous, creative, crass, unique, imaginative, and outside the realm of the traditional art world. Sometimes though, I draw the line. Don't try to tell me that this pile of bricks conveys a sense of "stepping from water of one depth to water of another depth" (as quoted by the artist, Carl Andre).
By the way, the bricks aren't even cemented together.
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