Now That’s Art.
Unique. Innovative. Controversial. MoMA is home to countless artworks, many of which embody all three characteristics. George Macuinas’s display, One Year, certainly falls into that category. “It just looks like a supermarket,” I heard someone comment when we first walked in. I, on the other hand, saw something aesthetically deliberate about the work. When I witnessed the empty food containers stacked in rows against the wall, I quickly noticed the patterns of colors and shapes they created. It was a difficult piece to interpret, if it had any meaning at all, but I could feel that the artist had carefully and intentionally arranged all the boxes, cartons, lids and plastics to be just where they were.
Other rooms showcased incredibly simple works that were hard to accept as masterpieces. Lee Krasner’s Number Three, for instance, was a canvas which displayed a random series of soft-colored red, blue and beige vertical stripes. I found the combination of colors appealing, but its lack of intricacies bothered me. I wondered how this could be displayed in such a renowned museum, when it appeared as if any person could have created it. When I encountered Barnett Newman’s Onement, 1, I was again struck with the same question. This time, the piece was a brown painted canvas with a single pumpkin-orange stroke running through the middle. “It’s modern,” some claim; “it’s just a line,” others might protest. Personally, I found myself leaning towards the latter.
As I continued to wander through the museum, I caught sight of a painting that completely stole my attention. From a distance, I could only see an irregular green shape surrounded by a dark blue background. When I approached the piece, I finally realized what the unidentified green mass on the canvas was: a slime monster! I stared at the painting for a while, then glanced at its white description box, only to discover that William Baziote had intended for the green “monster” to be a dwarf. As pointed out by my classmate, Sara, art can be exciting when one makes sense of it, but can also be disappointing if one becomes disillusioned with the artist’s actual idea.
On the other hand, I was shocked with Hedda Sterne’s painting for the opposite reason. When I first looked at New York, VIII, I felt as if the piece was screaming, “New York City!” After my experience with Baziote’s Dwarf, however, I managed to convince myself that I was wrong, and attempted to re-evaluate the artwork. After thirty seconds or so, I gave up and looked at the caption provided. I was stunned by the title, for it showed that the painting was in fact a portrayal of the city. I could not imagine how Sterne accomplished conveying such a clear vision without the use of lines and definite shapes. Her piece was abstract in appearance, but rather direct in the portrayal of her idea. Even days after having seen this painting, I am still dumbfounded by Sterne’s artistic talent, which radiates from this piece.
Through my visit to MoMA, I discovered that whether one is trying to define it or interpret it, art, as subjective as it is, presents a viewer with many challenges. In the end, however, I believe that art is really whatever you want it to be. An artist may present a work that is plain or elaborate, tiny or massive, predesigned or spontaneous; no matter what, it is up to the observer to decide whether a piece’s sensory impact, be it visual or auditory, is enough to make it art.
