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W hat is art?
The question, posed by photographer Roy Inman to the subjects of his First Friday portraits in today’s magazine, elicited a variety of humorous, thought-provoking answers.
By design, all of the subjects were attending a gallery walk in the Crossroads Arts District.
Most people who regularly look at art or make it regard art as a medium of intellectual and emotional expression, although technical skill is also valued.
I agree. What elevates art from what your dog could do with a paintbrush tied to its tail is intent.
Some people think art is pretty pictures to hang on walls and finely wrought crafts, such as inlaid wooden boxes or blown-glass vases.
I agree with them, too. I love decorative artworks, and you’ll find me perusing some at the Plaza Art Fair next weekend. It’s just a different kind of art than what you find in museums and top galleries.
I love it all.
Not every piece, but all the categories: visual art, craft, graphic design. I love Cuban movie posters, album covers by Milton Glaser, pretty stamps and Ingo Maurer lamps as well as the Great Masters and Abstract Expressionists.
I love some children’s artworks. (I can see the derisively arched eyebrow of a dear friend as she reads that last bit, but I cannot tell a lie.)
Much kid art is dreadful, including many works by my offspring over the years. But every now and then, a crudely rendered picture in chalky tempera on construction paper can move me profoundly.
And that’s the test.
How does it make you feel? I used to ask my kids that about paintings, especially abstract ones, when I dragged them to museums.
(We still go to museums, but now that they’re teenagers, I have to persuade them. When they were little I forced culture on them, like any responsible parent. You don’t ask children if they feel like brushing their teeth, right? I always felt promoting civilization was as important as promoting oral hygiene.)
How does it make you feel? That question heads off the dead-end like it/don’t like it approach to art. When you throw off the burden of judgment, you give your heart and mind a ticket to ride.
A photograph, painting or sculpture can unlock long-forgotten memories and emotions. Recently, the pastel hues in a ribbon stripe painting rocketed me straight back to age 12, inside my grandmother’s house, circa 1973.
The colors in the painting were the colors of Grandma’s cotton nightgowns, one of which she had on when she walked in on my cousin Suzanne and me smoking cigarettes in the upstairs bedroom.
Standing in front of the painting, I could suddenly smell the singular mix of Lemon Pledge, potted geraniums, musty quilts and Virginia Slims in the room that summer afternoon all those years ago.
A visit to a museum or gallery is as much of an escape for me as sinking into a great book.
If you stop thinking and let the colors, lines and mood work their magic on you, a work of art can be as moving as a spectacular sunset in a national park.
Museums are like camping without the bugs and damp. Or like international travel without the visas and currency exchanges.
Industrial designer Karim Rashid once said nature bored him because it was already designed.
I understand the sentiment. I can appreciate a stunning natural landscape, but I like a magnificent painting or photograph of one even better.
@Nyx.CommentBody@