Written by Cynical Sister | 12 July 2010

I can appreciate art.  I recognize the importance of line, color, shape, shadow, and texture.  I know that art is supposed to illicit ideas, emotions and convey a message.  I have gone to many great museums to witness the works of Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Dali, etc.  And without a doubt, I find myself in awe, breathless.

But now I am at a loss.  I was recently at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and I surfed through the exhibit on modern art and all I could do was wonder, “why the hell are these pieces of crap on canvas in the same museum as Raphael?”  Sure, they elicit an emotion…a few actually:  pissed off and what the fuck.  But there is nothing about these works of scribble scrabble that makes them stand apart from what my 3 year old can do with crayons.  Oh, and speaking of crayons, there was a master piece of crapola that was doodled with crayola.  Can’t make this up.

Let’s start with these exciting pieces.  The one to the left is blue with two green lines.  The middle one is a red box.  And the one to the right is a giant canvas of that solid charcoal color.  Oh, and the man standing there is not a spectator.  That is a security guard.  Yes.  This man dedicates hours of his day to make sure no one touches the smudged poop.

But let’s not stop here.  Onward.  This next piece is of some artist’s sketch.  Okay.  I know for a fact that a two fingered sloth could produce this feat of brilliance.  And if you look close enough you can see doodling on the other side of the paper.  And this, my friends, had an entire series to go with it.

After looking at room after room of this random preschool collection, I couldn’t help but wonder what the greats would think.  Would they cry?  Would there be an artist gang war:  paint and brushes flying everywhere?

How do people like this crap?  Is it because they suck just as bad as these posers and for a brief nanosecond they feel like an artist too?  I can guarantee you that if any of these framed rippy bits of junk were in a thrift store, without the artists’ name,  NONE of you would purchase it even if it was for $3.50.

This is what I challenge to all the modern artists and their works of smudgy squiggles.   Enter your work into the local county fair.  I doubt you place in the top 10.  And for those of you who LOVE this useless artwork:  my 3 year old has a ton of this crap that she produces on a daily basis.  I’m sure we can find a reasonable price to make you happy and pad her college education.  And before you pseudo art lovers get your panties in the wad, I get the fact that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  But, if modern art were a chick, she’d never get laid.