Amongst the flurry of colors and shadows that banner across the egg-shell white walls of the museum, I find many subjects to tear apart at my discretion. I'm not particularly skilled at giving an objective opinion when it comes to art. I simply know what I like and what I don't like and it has nothing to do with subtle hues of impressionism or the ridiculous abstract sculptures that I can't make any sense out of. There were many times I found myself irritated at what looked to me like a dried, wrinkled sheet of paper with dark, muddied colors lazily slushed across the page. At other times I would start at an image that seemed to be someone's excuse to let their nightmarish imaginations out onto paper. Distorted faces, mixed with strange, surreal concepts- no, not in a Salvador Dali type of way- but in a childish fashion that did not quite hint towards any artistic technique.
Okay, I know I'm being very critical. In fact, I can guarantee you, I'm probably just not looking deep enough to find the true meaning behind a lot of these pieces. There were many works of art that I was attracted to, and did appreciate- such as the meticulous and detailed workmanship of the Asia exhibition, or the wonderful graphite drawings by Frederick Mershimer of my hometown New York City. I suppose art is a lot deeper than a wrinkled up sheet of paper with a few smears of paint. It's quite similar to life, really. It's not about what is actually on the page, it's about how you see the wrinkled up sheet up paper with the splattered paint.
I like how art allows expression. Just as the presence of the writers are in their language, so the artist impresses himself or herself in color, line, style. Each creation represents an experience of transferring the abstract to the visual. Some of these impressions were distorted, as though life doesn't follow straight lines. Others were clearly representational. One watercolor painting was so clear it looked like a photograph. Like you, I don't understand everything I see, but I appreciate that someone didn't leave an impression inside themselves but chose to put it on canvas or silk or whatever the background because they are human, and we can at least identify with that.
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