I Know What I Like, and That Ain't It

Ceramic "objet d-art."

Apparently there are two worlds: One populated by the Old and another full of the Young. Thank God I live in the former most of the time. The existence of the latter is not a shock to me, but I pay little attention. As the mother of a musically inclined 20-something I know it's not the Beatles out there anymore, but still I shield myself from any music containing the lyrics "fuck dat nigga," or similar sentiments.

When it comes to art I am equally old-fashioned, preferring things that are actually pleasing to the eye. So it was with trepidation that I ventured onto the website for The Whitney Museum of American Art, an institution I have avoided since the day it opened its doors back in 1966 when I was an art student at New York University. Almost every visit to the place made me nauseous, so I finally stopped going unless forced to for a school assignment.

Then today a friend posted an image on Facebook she found disturbing that is currently on exhibit in the museum's  2014 Biennial. The alleged "art" is a mash-up of a TV screen shot of Andy Rooney with some paint thrown on it. (Oh yeah, Rooney was her Dad.)

Andy Rooney surely would have plenty to say about this!

My curiosity piqued, I went to the website where a quick look around told me all I need to know: The place has gone from bad to worse. For example, one of the "juried" pieces of "art" is a series of photographs documenting a transgender couple in the midst of their change--he's becoming a she and she's becoming a he. One wonders why surgery was necessary when they started out with different genitals anyway; does it really matter whose got which ones? And besides, why do we care?

If this is considered to be "art" among the young, I guess I should plan on installing grab bars and a ramp leading into my new art gallery.