In all the traveling I’ve done within the last year I have been fortunate enough to find myself in the same cities as some of the world’s most famous museums, not to mention living in one. Never really being a fan of museums I have been forcing myself to go and take advantage of the opportunities to visit some whenever possible. Little by little the museums have become more interesting to me and some I have actually really enjoyed and would highly recommend. I’ve discovered a love of the sculpted arts as well as an appreciation for artists such as Rodin, Monet, and Matisse.
Finally having some free time again I have decided to start taking in some of the culture Paris has to offer me in an attempt to further culture myself. Two weeks ago I walked over to the Picasso Museum here in Paris. Nice museum as far as architecture and layout go, but by the end of my visit I concluded I am not a Picasso fan. I’m sorry for those Picasso lovers out there, but his work just doesn’t do it for me and I don’t think it ever will. I could at least see how one how one could appreciate it. This could not be said for the art I came across this Sunday at the Georges Pompidou Center. The museum in the Pompidou center is a modern art museum. This would be my third visit to a modern art museum within the last year despite my dislike of modern art.
For some reason I feel this need to keep giving modern art another try, and yet, each and every time it has only further disappointed me. Aside from not liking the art within the modern art museums I have to say I also tend to greatly dislike the people to be found within them. While I’d say a good majority are people just like me, taking a glimpse at some art, there are always those people roaming around that seem so moved by that white canvas with a large black dot in the center. They have to stand there and stare at it for minutes on end as if it actually means something. It just makes me want to scream at them and point out that they’re staring at a black dot. How do we actually call this art? I used to doodle black dots on my notebooks in grade school, yet suddenly because some “artist” has put it on canvas and has had a “troubled” life we now call it art and say it symbolizes the void that is life?
And if you ever have the unfortunate opportunity to actually speak to one of the black dot gazers they will more than likely try to make you feel inferior because you just don’t understand what the black dot symbolizes and you probably never will because you’ve been too influenced by society’s conformist ideas.
I don’t want to bash all modern art though nor do I mean to generalize those who appreciate modern art. There have been a few pieces I’ve come across that I did actually enjoy, however, I could probably count them on my fingers.
So while I have enjoyed exposing myself to that side of art, I think for the time being I’ve had my fill of modern art museums and will stick to more of the classics for a while.