If you do not understand modern art – I am right there with you. I like conventional pretty things, including art.
In fact, when it comes to choosing art for my house, I am rather picky – none of the walls have pieces that I bought, because I never bought any. Photos or paintings have to be of people/places I love or made by them. Or by me.
While watching a film (The Accountant, 2016), my boyfriend and I had this conversation:
BF: Oh, I am not a fan of ‘art’ like this, but I love this painting, not sure why.
Me: This is not art!
BF: What is it then?
Me: Someone’s scribbles, possibly done under the influence of… erm, what drug makes you hallucinate or delusional?
BF: Haha, not sure, but I couldn’t do it.
Me: I bet I could…
A couple of months and a few sarky reminders from my boyfriend later, I made my own version of the painting. He was very pleased with the result!
Jackson Pollock, Free Form, 1946.
I have not found the price of this particular painting, or even estimated worth, however, some of his other paintings (that J. Pollock didn’t even bother to name – they are numbered!!!) are worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
DISCLAIMER: While not appreciating this kind of art, I am not denying its existence or value. In fact, seems that it has left a mark on me, even though against my will, it proves the point even more – it does not have to make sense, there just has to be ‘something about it’.
This piece will not be framed and will find its home on a black wall, which will fit in greatly in a manly and laconic interior of my BF’s place.