Contemporary art is a perfect reflection of the amoral times we live in today. If you want to know where we’re headed, pay a visit to the MoMA. Look around, breathe in the fragrance of the 21st century and capture the essence of our modern age – and if you come out without being unreservedly depressed you should consider becoming an artist TODAY. These days, you can apparently create literally whatever and not even bother giving it a title (why the effort?). All you have to do is to put a price tag on it and in New York, it would most probably sell.
I used to feel “left out” and simply stupid wandering around in contemporary art exhibitions. I always felt I’m probably just too conservative to understand “art” and there is a good reason for, say, a totally blank white canvas or a 6 square feet large pink, glossy floorboard to be exhibited in the most reputable museums of the world.
But as I’ve spent more and more time studying art history, visiting and re-revisiting the best modern art museums in Paris, DC and New York, I grew more comfortable with modern art. I have a certain taste, preference for artists and periods, and can tell the difference between seemingly identical works of Picasso and Georges Braque.
I think I’ve seen and learned enough by now to boldly say: most of the contemporary exhibits that today occupy entire floors of New York’s most reputable modern art museums should not be on public display.
What is happening nowadays with mainstream contemporary art is, for me, a disaster. Not that there aren’t many contemporary artists who I acknowledge and appreciate. There are quite a few. But the tragedy is that they never make it to the elitist “mainstream” club and will never be seen by millions of visitors each year in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. I wish I knew who ultimately decides that two dozen oversized paintings of faceless nurses bleeding here and there in the most obscure body positions and color combinations must definitely be seen by thousands of people from around the world every day. I would love to introduce them to my eight year old sister who kept asking me all the time: “Anna, what about this is art?”
I wish I knew what to tell her.
