Bad Art, Week Twenty-Nine in the No Longer New Abnormal

When I was in the third grade I took my first trip to an art museum. It was a class field trip and I found the Philadelphia Museum of Art boring. We were on a tour and it was more about history and paintings of old wars than anything that interested me. Had the guide stopped by the Mary Cassatt portrait or explained Brancusi’s The Kiss rather than marching us past it to view Washington’s Crossing, I may have found my love for art a bit sooner. It took me until high school and many more visits to the Museum to learn what I like as opposed to what I prefer to leave on the walls on my way to better things.

This week while it was sweltering I made my way to The Metropolitan Museum. I had yet to see the roof exhibit, and I knew I could take a slow walk in the heat before returning to work. On the way I passed Park Avenue and took a look at art made from tires. While I appreciate repurposing discarded or unused material, I am not a fan of the art. The same can be said of some of the items I see at the museum. They may appeal to antiquities fans, but viewing scraps of pottery is not my idea of a good museum visit.