I laughed out loud reading aeroplane1234‘s post about ‘art’. I totally agree with him, I don’t get it sometimes. Sometimes all these so-called art pieces are downright ludicrous. And people who appreciate these ‘art’ are lets face it, pretentious. They need to look at my 5-year-old doodles because they are 500 times better than your deep, thoughtful art. Art my fart!
I had the fortune of visiting Tate in Liverpool during my trip to UK. The visit was mostly amazing with some shiznits (like sticking thousands of dead butterfly wings to make a collage, hello?), but some of the stuff on display did incite a couple of “HUH?”.
Like that huge canvas of just the colour blue.
IKB by Yves Klein. I like to call it The Horrendously Overrated Blue.
Okay, so the artist INVENTED that strain of blue colour, but it’s still, blue. Navy. Whatever. I mean, I could buy a bucket of nippon paint in blue, splash it across a white canvas, hang it in my living room and call it art, right? Yeah but dude‘s got his blue painting in of all places, f-king Tate!?
Then there’s this painting that’s basically a zoomed up notepad. It looked something like this:
Doesn’t it evoke nightmares of factorisation and endless algebra?
I wish I remembered the artist’s name. Why didn’t we think of doing this? We could have enlarged our buku 555 and made some big bucks. In fact, I’d draw some invisible flowers and trees on it with my pit sweat, that would definitely make the art more valuable.
What about the chick that pulled a longass scroll out of vagina as part of a feminist movement? Ooookay.
Said the chick who pulled out a longass scroll out of her poonani…
I saw the vagina as a translucent chamber of which the serpent was an outward model: enlivened by it’s passage from the visible to the invisible, a spiraled coil ringed with the shape of desire and generative mysteries, attributes of both female and male sexual power. This source of interior knowledge would be symbolized as the primary index unifying spirit and flesh in Goddess worship.
- the chick who pulled out a longass scroll out of her poonani.
Do you get her jabber? BLA BLA BLA BLA IM JUST TRYING REALLY HARD TO JUSTIFY WHY I PULLED A BLOODY PAPER OUT OF MY FURRY CUP.
By now, you’re probably dying to google the chick up. Her name is Carolee Schneemann, pervs.
Tags: art, artsy fartsy, Carolee Schneemann, Carolee Schneemann Interior Scroll, exhibition, IKB Yves Klein, Interior Scroll, liverpool tate, painting, pretentious art, tate, Yves Klein