In part I, an art teacher, put me down because I could only draw stick figures.
The Theft! Part II of Jackson Pollock, Art Thief!
In the sixth grade, we went on a field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan. At that time, the museum was set up so that you would start with ancient artifacts and work your way to Modern Art and the “really out-there stuff”.
My friends and I stared in pubescent wander at the wide-hipped, heavy-breasted clay fertility goddesses. We chuckled at the naked Greek sculptures and blushed at the semi-nude ladies of nineteenth century. The girls rolled their eyes at our prurient appreciation of the fine arts.
While I not did care much for the all of the art that was displayed, I was impressed by a few of the paintings:
“The Figure 5 in Gold” by Charles Demuth ...
and “Harlequin” by Pablo Picasso ...
... to name two. I also enjoyed the Ancient Greek sculptures for their attention to detail.
Finally, we entered a great room where there hung some large paintings. At the far end was “Autumn Rhythm” (No 30) by Jackson Pollock.
To me, it looked like a very sloppy house-painter’s stretched-out, discarded drop cloth. In other words, it looked like spilt paint.
And here is where and when my appreciation for art was stolen. My mind came to screeching halt like the climax of a high-speed chase scene in a Sam Peckinpah movie in slow-motion in Technicolor. My mind was instantly reset to a precognitive set point. I could not articulate what I was seeing. Classmates’ constant chattering. Now noise. Can. Not. Think. Avert gaze. Other paintings. Gazed at “it”. Approach paint on wall. Different angles. Step back. Close up. Middle room.
Slowly, my ability to think in complete thoughts came back. I could not comprehend why this “thing” was considered art. Stunned I approached my friends at the other end of the room. They were staring at a series of 8x10” black and white photos of a naked woman pleasuring herself. I stared at the photos. Other primitive urges started to crowd out the survival mode I was in and my mind slowly came back. However, I had this paranoid feeling that Pollack’s painting was staring at me. I shot furtive glances back. The painting was calling me back. I resisted.
The field trip concluded and I exited the museum feeling okay, but not the same. In the bus, I was quiet the whole way back to school. Thinking that this “artwork” was following me, I kept looking back.
To be continued ...
© Trudge164, 2009
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Part I of Jackson Pollock, Art Thief!
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Comments
1. Maybe Polloc liked football. Autmn Rhythm looks extraordinarily similar to the persepctive you have when your a defensive lineman during a football game after the ball has been snapped. Or maybe it's just my brain that was snapped after too many battles against massive offensive linemen.
2. Could be all your stick people after your art teacher put your drawings in the blender.
Pollock used to talk about the importance of the trancelike state he would find himself in during the making of his drip works. He had discovered something never before acknowledged in the act of painting......sure, his process had been done by many masters all over the world, in many settings and contexts, but no painters, as far as we know, had ever entered this state and been able to self-critique, analyzing and searching for an understanding of where this channeling of creative forces came from, and what it means.
Very few works of art affect me in the same way Pollock's work does. I try to experience it, pushing all preconceptions out of my mind, becoming lost in the immediacy of the image. The images do seem to look back, asking us to enter them and take a conceptual romp.
I do see why Pollock was shocking to many and continues to be provocative.
Jackson Pollock was the Rorschach of art. His stuff is hypnotic mainly because we hypnotize ourselves!
Plus, he hung out with a lot of rich Easterners.
Rated!
Boomer, you have one wild imagination. I like #1 because I played football too. But I think #2 is closer to the truth.
GaryJustis, You have point. I do consider myself to be an open-minded individual. Also, thanks for the bio on Pollock.
Brenda Gail, I heard that he even timed the drops and compared how height affected the splatter.
Robin, thanks for the input.
Cartouche, more to come.
Zuma, you are right. His stuff is mind-bending.
Julie Tarp, I respond the same, today.