Art for Art’s Sake–or Someone Else?

I’m just back from a vacation in New England and New York City. Two of those days I spent at the fabulous Metropolitan Museum of Art. I loved it.

I also thought parts of it absurd.

You know those sections: modern art.

Take the painting at the top of the page. What do you see?

Do you note a color? A shape? Anything else?

Are you surprised to learn the painting is called “Blue Panel?”

I’m not either.

How about this sculpture:

I reminds me of paperclips, but it is much larger. Giant paperclips, perhaps. With my arty photo, you also get the shadow which adds depth and power to the sculpture.

Right?

Real title: Tanktotem II. David Smith welded it together in 1953. I have no idea how much the Met spent to obtain it, nor why.

I examined this one for some time, trying to decide if I saw the outstretched arm of an Indian chief pointing to something to the right. He’s wearing a buffalo skin.

Right?

Title: Untitled.

About this time, I’m ready to give up on modern art. I mean, if the artist can’t be bothered to figure out what his painting is about, why should I waste my time on it?

If the artist can’t label his or her painting in a way that makes sense to me, what am I supposed to take away from it? Could the painter at least give me a hint?

I thought I’d be able to figure out this painting when I saw the title.   Here it is:

No surprise, the painter is Pablo Picasso. Can you guess what he was trying to say?

The title: Guitar and Clarinet on a Mantlepiece.

I’ve been playing the clarinet for 43 years. I can strum a guitar. I can sort of see the guitar–the strings at least, but where is the clarinet?

All I can figure is the frilled white on the right side mimicks the shape of the silver keys on my instrument.

But what do I know? I’m not an artist.

Cubism, of course, is an attempt to look at an object from several different angles–and express it in a one-dimensional painting. It mimicks the shapes.

It doesn’t do anything for me except make me feel dischordant–I prefer art that soothes and makes me savor it–whether by color, shape, topic or technique.

Cubism confounds and irritates me–probably because it’s so often composed of sharp angles.

We didn’t spent a lot of time in the modern art section of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but I did get one last photo before we left:

I call it “Orange.” You note the shading of the left to right as the color darkens. What do you think the artist was thinking as she created this?

I can tell you her reaction.

“Oops.”

I took the picture with my I-touch when I caught my finger over the camera lens by mistake.

I think it’s the corner of a dress . . .

I’m not a total plebian. I like many bona fide works of art. I just don’t enjoy modern art.

What about you? Which one of these do you like the best and why?

Or why not?

Art like this has got to be created for somebody . . .