Yes, but is it Art

Julie and I recently travelled to Pittsburgh to see Cal and get away for a bit (You remember travel, don’t you? Leaving your home and going somewhere else?). While we were there, we went to the Mattress Factory, a contemporary art gallery. It sparked my ambivalence about modern art, and, frankly, representational art in general. I want to get it – to understand what the artist is conveying – but no matter how close I seem to get to grasping intent, it always seems to elude me. It’s frustrating. 

Take the installation Surmatants, Mars Rising, by Andrea Stansilav. After walking through a room featuring an upside-down white horse, and whirling curtains reminiscent of a Twin Peaks set, you come to a triple movie screen showing traditionally clad dancers whirling about in front of a derelict industrial building. A beautiful, highly ornamented woman on a white horse (death?) rides slowly into the circle and all of the dancers fall down, as if they were playing ring-around-the-rosy. It was unbelievably striking.

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 Striking, yes, but what was the artist trying to tell us? It is advertised as “an elegiacally [serious reflecting for those, like me, who would have had to look that word up in the dictionary] visceral response to the COVID-19 pandemic in three acts”. Really? My best guess was a commentary on the way in which heavy industry gobbled up immigrant workers, but what do I know.  

Or take the mind-boggling Museum of All Things. This was a room rendered by Jennifer Angus which featured thousands of mounted bugs. Some created a macabre wallpaper. Some were in bell jars and narrow display drawers, where the bugs were doing all kinds of things, like reading books or holding court. In the middle was a dining room table with various stuffed creatures and more bugs enjoying an elegant meal. All quite jaw-droppingly, wonderfully, bizarre.  

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There didn’t seem to be a deeper message here, or, at least I couldn’t discern any. I think that we were supposed to just stand back in awe that someone would so painstakingly create this incredible alternative universe. And it worked. I was in awe, even though there was so much there I doubt if I took in even 1/3 of the exhibit. 

I’ve had this same reaction in conventional art museums. I stand before an acknowledged masterpiece, and, being the pretentious, intellectual wanna-be that I am, I want so badly to grasp the symbolism, analyze the brush strokes, and place the work in its historical context. Instead, my depth of analysis is usually something akin to “Me like pretty picture”.  

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I have even recently had this experience while reading. I just finished George Saunders terrific “A Swim in the Pond in the Rain”, where he has us read seven 19^th Century Russian short stories, and then after each dissects them the way that you would in a Masters level creative writing course. It was exhilarating to follow his course of thought, which brought these stories to life with great insight and humor. But it was also humbling to realize how much I missed in each of these stories, and how often I failed to grasp what was, in retrospect, the most basic points. 

And yet, about 2/3 through this book, a light came on. Wait a minute (I thought), this guy is a professional writer, who teaches writing, and has not only read these stories 50 times, but has also had numerous discussions about them with graduate students and other professionals year after year. Of course he is going to be able to miles deeper than I could possibly go in one quick read. 

The same is true for representational art. People don’t just go into their basements and throw this stuff together. They study what others have done. They consider the symbolism they are invoking. They go through trial and error to get what they want. And those that curate these exhibits have spent hours and hours honing their craft, taste and sensibilities so that they can evaluate what they are considering and separate the wheat from the chaff.  

So why should I feel bad about my inability to fully understand what these artists are doing?  Can any of them dissect a reinsurance contract? (Of course, why would they? In fact, as I occasionally asked myself in the 20 years that I did reinsurance, why would anyone in their right mind do so? Then I would think of Mark Megaw’s inspirational speech about how reinsurance made the commercial world go round and feel better about myself, for at least 10 minutes or so).             

There is no reason for any of us to believe that we can truly grasp what artists are trying to do. However, there is also no reason that we shouldn’t interact with what we see and get out of it what we can. Maybe it will be something the artist never considered (I still think that Surmatants, Mars Rising, works better as a commentary on the immigrant experience in the steel industry than it does as a COVID-19 response). Maybe it will be nothing more than “That’s cool” or, “That’s silly”. It really doesn’t matter. It’s still worth the interaction. 

Despite my frustration and ambivalence, I will continue to go to these galleries whenever I can. I will take in what I see and occasionally be transported to another world, like I was by the Museum of All Things, even if I can’t figure out why I am there. I will revel in the creativity of people whose imagination dwarfs mine. We all need something to take us out of the “real world” and art does it as well as it can be done.