The Role of Time in Art

Last year, just after we got back from our vacation to America, one of my first blogs was a commentary on an  art project in our neighborhood.  Mostly, I did not approve.  Most of the exhibits  seemed to me strikingly inartistic, cobbled together, ugly, and pointless.  Like a lot of modern art, like a lot of installation art.  I couldn’t wait for it to all  be gone.

And then,eventually,  most of it  was.  I don’t recall the point  at which  it  all  disappeared.  Like a cold or a minor ailment,  like a sore  foot for instance, you  don’t really perceive the moment when it’s gone.  Just, one day it’s not  there and your mind is  taken  up with other things.
But, there are still two pieces  left over and, being as it’s almost  a year later, I guess they’re sort of permanent.  And,  it’s O.K.

One looks like a black leather sofa that’s been  folded over so it sort of looks like a kneeling man, in between our local pizzeria and our local  supermarket, and it’s not leather it’s like  fiberglass or something.  I  think of it as a monument to Colin Kaepernick, although I have no idea if that was the artist’s intent.

The other is in the park, and I thought of it as perhaps the ugliest piece of all.  A bunch of metal containers, cylindrical  in shape and with holes in different lattice patterns.  They looked like some kind of military  surplus item, khaki green with peeling paint to reveal the rust below.  Thing is, though, they are very popular with kids.  It’s like  an instant fort, or a place to play house, I guess, all depending on  the age, gender and inclination of the child.  Empty spaces just waiting to be filled, worlds just itching to be colonized.

So, I guess they had some artistic merit after all.

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