I love all art connected to writing, and I appreciate pottery. I love music. But, when it comes to most visual art, I’m the first to admit that I just don’t get it for the most part. I did connect with Diego Rivera’s murals in Mexico when I visited, and I was awed by Van Gogh’s work in Amsterdam, but these are the exceptions. When visiting an art gallery, my usual response is “Is there a Mexican restaurant close by? I could kill some chips and salsa.”
I completely understand that this reaction is a reflection of how unsophisticated I am, not the quality of the art work.
However, my husband sent me this video clip today of an exhibit in the MoMa in 2010, and I was moved. I spent last Saturday teaching a workshop about Writing from Memory, and this clip shows a visceral, physical reaction to memory. To me, good art is any creation that resonates deeply within me. This did.
Read this before watching the clip in order to give it context:
“Marina Abramovic and Ulay started an intense love story in the 70s, performing art out of the van they lived in. When they felt the relationship had run its course, they decided to walk the Great Wall of China, each from one end, meeting for one last big hug in the middle and never seeing each other again. at her 2010 MoMa retrospective Marina performed ‘The Artist Is Present’ as part of the show, a minute of silence with each stranger who sat in front of her. Ulay arrived without her knowing it and this is what happened.”