Out of the two exhibitions that my group chose, I think that Zero: Countdown to Tomorrow at the Guggenheim was the most memorable of the two.
The building structure of the Guggenheim is amazing. I loved how the building was just one huge spiral with its main exhibition in the center while side exhibitions were in the small rooms on the side. Sadly, the art really didn’t match how awesome the building is.
The art was somewhat dreadful for me. I couldn’t make sense of most of it. Some artworks were just color on a canvas; it was a single shade of red, blue or yellow. I was speechless, not in awe but in confusion. I felt like a three-year-old could spill a can of paint on something and then have it submitted in as art. That was only the beginning.
The next section of the exhibition featured vibrations and movement. When I read the description of it all, I had high hopes thinking that the pieces of art would be better than the single-colored canvases. It wasn’t. Immediately after reading the description, a huge canvas loomed over me. This canvas had what looks like a sheet draped over it. the sheet had four rips in the middle as if a huge cat had slashed it. The piece description stated that this piece was supposed to be a play on 4-D. For some people the effect of a fourth dimension may have been there. Not for me. I just saw a sheet with four rips, put over a sheet. I started at it blankly thinking that it was absurd to consider this as something worthy enough to be put on display.
Although the Guggenheim was filled with confusion for the most part, I did actually understand and like a certain part from the Zero exhibition. I found the pieces that had a play on light to be ingenious. The section consisted of artwork where artists would cut out shapes on a sphere, box, or wheel made out of metal. Light would then have light shone on it or through it while the shape rotated. The patterns and shimmers that the light produced was just so elegant, especially Light Ballet by Otto Piene.
After going through it all I realized one thing. At times art is not supposed to be understood. When art cannot be understood, would it still be called art? Of course.
