Looking At Art

We used to go to museums – frequently – There were favorite artists: Picasso Matisse Giacometti (especially Giacometti) Henry Moore (never passed up a Henry Moore) deKooning Calder Oldenburg Oh, yes, and Francis Bacon Lucien Freud and Georgia O'Keefe I could go on, but you get the idea Painters were favored – 20th century greats and a few who straddle the 21st We don't always agree but we have roiling discussions I like Franz Kline and Robert Motherwell – not his favorites – No dispute that Philip Guston should have chosen another profession (what's with that shoe sole and cigar, and pink? dreadful) Now we wander from gallery to gallery wondering what happened to all the talent and why we don't respond to multi-media (too frenetic) square boxes (too simple) steel slabs on the floor (uninteresting) piles of junk (more like detritus) And what's with those neon signs Very puzzling – this response to visual art – and mystifying – Like all viewers we know what we like Like all viewers we also believe our preferences are superior But, no matter, looking at art – perpetual pleasure