Tag: children

Warning:

This post ain’t gonna fly with everyone. I’m throwing tact out the window for a brief lapse into unadulterated opinion. Because that’s just what I do at 4 in the morning.

I still don’t get modern art.

Since parking at COSI looked too daunting with everything all torn up around there, the girls and I wound up at our favorite default field trip, Columbus Museum of Art. And it was the first time I’d say it was a complete fail.

The 2 special exhibits were “A DANGEROUS WOMAN: SUBVERSION AND SURREALISM IN THE ART OF HONORÉ SHARRER” and “Shakespeare in Prague: Imagining the Bard in the Heart of Europe.”

First off, let’s talk about this dangerous woman thing. I’ll touch briefly on the two least-offensive pieces of the exhibit first. The promo for this exhibit came from this first one, because, let’s face it, it’s the best the whole thing had to offer. By a landslide. Here we go:

And here’s the only other thing from this wacked-out exhibit I could put in my G-rated blog:

A counselor friend once told me this little grief/anxiety coping-ditty about the importance of having someone to talk to: “Every time you share a burden with a friend, you cut it in half.”

Friends, I am seriously tempted to unburden the scourge I can’t un-see. Good news for you! I didn’t even photograph that crap.

In the wise-words of my Molly, “This is all stupid and indecent.” Unless, of course, 2 humping dogs at a highfaluting tea party or a rotund, unclothed woman sprawled in the aisle of a church during a Mass are your thing, I’m telling you, you can skip this one.

So I was really looking forward to the Shakespeare. Which turned out to be Nipple City. Seriously, lots and lots of nipples. Nipples even in places that didn’t need ’em.

Well, now, maybe I’m just exaggerating a little. There were a couple of “decent” (her words, not mine) things to look at here and there. Like this:

and this:

Notice the white dress was cut low enough that, if it had been on a mannequin, it would have, well, as I said. Nipples.

Desperate to wash our eyes out with something less noxious, we ran through some of the familiar parts of CMA. As we approached that room with the big wire sculpture featuring the humanoid form buried in it, I found I preferred to just look out the window. This was the view beyond the man caught in the cage-thing:

Not even stopping for a $14 cookie in the never-disappointing Schokko Art Cafe, we made it back home in record time. For a field trip.