...makes me a sad. Really.
It is sort of like looking at a Ferrarri GTO when gas is $5 a gallon.
Or a red setter that dosen't get exercise.
Or a fancy watch that sits in a jeweler's case and never gets worn.
Museums and galleries are designed to showcase stuff like Art, that's fair enough, they are in business to do so, but so much Art, and photographs in particular strike me as being in poverty because the spaces they occupy seldom have the honesty which truly compliment the "reason" for the piece.
Galleries are different in that any visual element other than the Artwork can be a distraction from the Art itself, but in real life a barren background strikes me as being an arrogant contrivance. Good Art dosen't need to call attention to it's self. Art in the home and business I think should be more like a member of the family. Uncle Ernie belongs in his favorite chair smoking a cigar. Sis wouldn't be Sis if she weren't at her drum set pounding the skins. Too much Art is like having Uncle Ernie or Sis crushed behind a pane of non glare glass on a barren wall instead of being in a favorite chair and making music.
For example, an 8x10 Ektalure print of a PFC, in a frame that is resting on a doilie sitting on a piano makes a far more interesting story than "just" a picture of a soldier in an aluminium frame on a blank wall.
A 5x7 glossy of a girl in a cheerleader's outfit scotch taped to the inside of a gym locker door tells a much more interesting story than a picture of a cheerleader on a sterile wite wall.
These photographs serve a purpose. They represent something.
An abstract photo of the grille on a '47 Chevy Coupe tells more of a story (and a better story IMHO) when it is tacked up over a work bench in an old garage instead of being mounted in a too large mat and hung on a blank wall in a salon.
Even public art looks pretentious when it is unavoidable.
In Venice I think (this was years ago) there are some tremendous statues that are "parked" along on corner of a rather drab piazza. Rather than being drawn to them I was repelled---better keep out of the way of the movers--those things must be very heavy! Only the movers never came to put them wherever they belong. The situation was not the fault of the artist, whom the masterpieces were n doubt a source of joy, but rather their location which made the statue's meaning and purpose banal.
By contrast I went to Tivoli outside of Rome one balmy summer night. Stumbling in the dark through the trees and bushes accompanied by the sound of running water I'd be startled at every other turn by glorious floodlite statues and fountains. The fauns and niades belonged here, in that magical (and touristy) forest! Surely if they had been transplanted into a shopping mall the story told would suffer.
I was looking at pictures of some of the 9/11 memorials and I was overcome by how very bad they were. I mean, they could have just as easily been located at the entrance to a horse race track or parking structure. What did they "say?" What did they represent? Nothing. Absolutely nothing that a casual passer bye could apprehend.
It is as if Art is merely looked on as something to fill up a space rather than to illustrate what surrounds us through the photographer's eye, or to preserve that most human of security blankets---memory and fidelity. It is as if Art dosen't have a real job anymore
Well, thats what you get when I stay up past my bedtime What say You?
Bookmarks