In a recent blog entry, visual poet Geoff Huth wrote about the different ways that people come to experience art--when they’re standing directly in front of a painting. Some of us might like to share every thought we have with our companions and devote long minutes to each and every piece on display. And, others of us might prefer to silently ghost about the gallery floor, gliding from one room into another, never stopping for more than a few crucial moments before any single work of art.
If you’ve ever been fortunate to experience that pinnacle of romantic fantasy belonging to the cultural savants of New York who happen to still be single and meet the perfect stranger at an exhibition opening, chances are you’ve found that his (or her) personal art appreciation ‘style’ is all too often irreconcilably different from yours. But there is no reason to get discouraged, because maybe one day, just maybe, another Duchamp enthusiast in MoMA might turn to you and quip:
“What’s it called when the Cubist girlfriend knocks off her partner’s toupee during intercourse? Nude up-ending a hairpiece!”