Eavesdropping at the Gallery

sean-fallon

I will never understand modern art.

This is the winning entry? What is artistic about this old mannequin; its head is broken off at the neck, it’s taken apart at the waist, and its legs don’t match.

Oh, the broken mannequin is the trophy? The art is the neglected doorway? What is artistic about a doorway?

So let’s see if I got this straight. It represents the blocked progress of humanity, littered by the detritus of our appetites—pizza symbolizes our physical appetites and graffiti portrays our intellection appetites.

Okay. If you say so. But I will never understand modern art.

This piece was prepared for Friday Fictioneers.  If you want to enter a story of your own, go ahead, it’s fun.

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12 thoughts on “Eavesdropping at the Gallery

    • Thanks for the comment Rochelle, I wasn’t going to post because of lack of time. But made the mistake of checking the prompt and a day later had this idea overpower me and wrestle me to the keyboard.

    • I looked up ‘The Unmade Bed’ I assume you mean the photograph by Imogene Cunningham. I suspect the picture and the name of the picture was an intentional redirection. The center of the picture is two items in the bed. I never found an online copy making it large enough to see what they were. But I notice the bed was set directly on the floor, the covers where pulled back squarely around the two items. It would be easy to assume they represent men and women, but as a man I don’t want to be either the wiry looking thing nor the thing that looked like it had sharp blades on it. I don’t imagine women want to choose to be represented by those items either. So back to the standby comment, I will never understand modern art.

      • Sorry, I gave you the wrong title Charles, it’s called My Bed by Tracy Emin which was nominated for the prestigious Turner Prize. It is indeed, an unmade bed though. I’d enclose a link but I wouldn’t want to give any more publicity to the this dreadful exhibit than it has already enjjoyed. Sorry to have been less than precise in my comment though I think this exhibit would only add to your confusion over modern art. It certainly did mine.

        • Okay, so I looked that one up. It doesn’t seem to have any direction pointing to any particular meaning. I found a great picture I could look closely at the junk. A lot of it deals with the despair of life. Booze, cigarettes, pregnancy test, and so on. But not ordered in a way as to lead me to jump to a conclusion. When all else fails blame the artist, are they not like the writer, responsible for how clearly they communicate?

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