the thing about art

This past weekend we took a little field trip to the new Modern Wing at the Art Institute. Originally, it was going to be just me and another friend, but then I cajoled B into going because my thought was, who doesn't love art? And the resounding answer was, not my boyfriend. Which I will admit was disappointing and a little puzzling.

A long discussion and minor argument ensued. B complained that he didn't really like the work that much and said the classic line "anyone could do that." This statement angers me beyond words because, yes, anyone could go out and buy paint, but the chances of it looking even remotely good is slim to none. It is harder then it looks, trust me. Artists are talented and creative people who concept an idea, have a point of view and if all goes well, execute it well. Being innovative and thoughtful with conceptual ideas and becoming technically good at your work, takes a crapload of time and energy.

This said, I know that different types of art moves people differently. I am a huge fan of modern art, especially painting and portraits. I know that others are less keen on the modern art flavor, and to this, to each their own. Sometimes art museum don't ring true to some, which is understandable when there is a certain expectation that because the pieces are priceless, the experience of looking at them should be nothing less then mind blowing. It would be impossible with the size of the Art Institute to be dazzled by ever piece.

Another point of argument that we had was that he didn't care what the artist was expressing. Which lead to a discussion about visual art being similar to music, which he got all huffy about. I think it was one of those things, when you are arguing about a word that has different connotations, but still continue to argue even though you are sort of agreeing. We do this a lot. And at the end of the day, I think we both agree that both art and music are similar in that we like what we like and we agree to disagree on what we don't like. I mean, if a Protest the Hero song pops up on B's ipod in the car, I have what I can only imagine him to feel at an art museum, a feeling that I kind of want to gouge my eyes out.