I’d been telling everyone I was going to Art Basel because, well, Peter had told me we had tickets to Art Basel. But, as it turns out, they were tickets to Art Central, which is not Art Basel, the internationally known art festival. But, hey- it was still Art Central which was a big deal, at least for Hong Kong, I think.
I want to be in to art. I want to be one of those women that are like, “ah yes, that’s a blah blah blah” or “this one is in the same style as shmoopadee shmup” or “this piece of art is a statement about goats.” But alas, I don’t know much beyond Humanities class at Pepperdine, and I typically spend most of my time at an art show saying, “I could totally make that” or pointing and giggling at any depiction of male nudity. Yep, I’m a real art buff.
Peter, even being slightly classier than me, is sort of on my same page with the art. We both appreciate it. We know about the styles of art through the eras and the famous works we ought to know about. We like to look at it. We like to look at pretty, cool or bold things. But there are just some pieces of art that we just don’t get. And sometimes, as we stood in front of various pieces of carefully crafted art, created from oodles of talent, no doubt, all we could utter was an honest, “what’s going on here?”
Example 1: When we watched a video playing on the wall of a portly, VERY naked man stumbling (and flopping) around while he struggled to pick up a big boulder on loop. “What’s going on here?”
“What’s going on here?”
We saw a lot of cool art at Art Central. Some pieces that I was inexplicably drawn to, my interpretations of which were mind blowing.
Like the fish and duck that you might buy at a Hong Kong market, if you are into that kind of thing, that looked like they were made of paper, but weren’t. The “paper bags” had eyes that were looking back at you, watching you watching them, making the whole experience weird and confusing. And I’m into that.
Or the row of colorful, metallic Buddhas that kind of looked like holograms or like they were created from a 3-D printer, but probably were not. Because that would be wayyy too easy and anyone could do it, even me (I could totally make that).
We then had a riveting conversation about the art we’d just seen over lunch.
And then we took cute selfies on our walk back to the MTR.
Good art, people. Good art.