I seem to have hit a nerve with my column about modern art.
Greg e-mails, “Your latest JPH sparked a memory of an agonizing trip to the Hirschorn Art Museum in DC. What I remember best was a blank white square framed on the wall. It was called ‘Potential.’ I think I left my own contribution, in the form of a dark red splash on the wall. It was called “Art Museum Patron’s Head Exploding.”
Rich writes, “Oh so true, Paul. I still recall to this day an ‘artist’ who was selling — for thousands of dollars — paintings he created by filling up a shotgun and shooting at a canvas. When they interviewed him, he acknowledged that he didn’t think it was art, but if some idiot was willing to pay that much for it, who
was he to say?”
Janet adds, “I have a hunk of wood, on a pedestal, elaborately decorated with chic found material. My art is titled: ‘Suckah.’ Interested?”