But Is It Art?

Yesterday, the Famille Evil took in some culture. Here in Minnesota, the two major art museums are holding major exhibitions of major women artists. The Minneapolis Institute of Art (the classic art museum) has a retrospective of Georgia O'Keefe, focusing on her use of the circle as the foundation for many of her works.

The Walker Art Center (the modern art museum) has put together an exhibit of works by Frida Kahlo, in honor of the 100th anniversary of her birth.

I need to see both of these shows.

So yesterday, being Saturday, it was First Free Saturday at the Walker: free admission, art activities related to the Kahlo exhibit. It was a winner. Mr. Sweetie was up for it, and the kidlets were willing to give it a try. So off we went with the plan to have lunch at the museum, see the Kahlo works, and do some art.

I was quite naive.

The line to see the Kahlo exhibit was not to be believed. So, we went up to the cafe to grab some lunch, only to see another line that was remarkable for it's slowness. Usually, a cafe can process customers only slightly slower than a McDonald's, but this one was not the usual model of efficiency. In fact, it took a full half hour to get our food, and so it was close to 2 PM by the time we left the cafe.

The line was no shorter, and none of us had any interest in standing in line for a couple of hours, when we knew we could come back some day that was less busy.

I was really surprised by the number of families that were there--and by the very young ages of the kids. There were quite a few strollers there, which I think is really daring for a museum where the works of art are not always obvious. One installation included a low hanging clothes line with shirts hanging on hangers--it was not easy to walk under it without hitting the clothes, and there was no other way out of the area. I can't imagine bringing a toddler into such a hazardous area--but then I guess that's why I live in St. Paul. I'm just not hip enough to live in Minneapolis.

I was taken with some of the art on display, and I am totally going to have to go back when it is quieter to look again. Some of it totally begs the question--but, what makes it art? And the response "It's in an art museum" does not even begin to be a satisfactory answer.