To be fair this will have been the only chance a lot of them will have had to be naked in the company of the opposite sex. Or the same sex in some cases.
For a lot of those people there today it was a liberating experience. No one said look at that fat cow or look at that skinny bitch. No one said oi pencil dick or you fat slob. It seemed completely natural chatting and walking around with 3199 other naked people. Old, young, fat and thin. Some hairy and some bald. Some in wheelchairs, others on crutches. Men and women. All amazing people to do it and we has such a ****ing good time so all the haters can **** right off.
Constable can go and drive his cart into a pond IMO. Vincent however... The first time I went to Musee D'orsay and saw their Van Gogh collection I just burst into tears. I mean, I had my young kids with me, as well as the Missus, and was surrounded by Japanese tourists and I'm stood there bawling my eyes out, grieving for a long dead, mentally ill, Dutch geezer whose psychosis had just hit me between the eyes like a post-impressionist juggernaut. I'm ****ed if a piece of art has ever had such an impression on me, before or since. The bloke was a ****ing genius. Starry, starry night, Paint your palette blue and gray. Look out on a summer's day, With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Amen to that Ernie. That's what art can do to you. I used to have a bloody big picture of them dogs playing cards above the mantel piece. Soon as i met the mrs it was taken down, never to be seen again. Still brings a tear to my eye now.
Let it all out, Chazz. Let it all out. please log in to view this image If ya repress ya feelings ya become a gayer, ya knaa.
Ffs. Giggling like a twat here. Wife asks why. I read her from Charlies beautiful post to the bottom. Stone faced expression. That's what you've been giggling about? Heart of ice wrapped in stone my missus.
There were cancer survivors doing it and amputees. War vets there too. Everyone had their reasons I guess. I've had 10 operations in the last 6 years. I have scars all over my body and skin grafts off my legs. My boobs don't match as one is a reconstruction. Do I care? Nah. Neither did the dwarf who did it or the old lady who had no hair and was worried about how she would colour her wig as she didn't want to be bald in the picture. It was beautiful.
I am clearly seriously missing something when it comes to art interpretation - what makes Van Gogh a genius? Not trying to sound facetious, just curious. If I look at an old Flemish painting, I am in awe of the artistic skill but there seems to be little to interpret, no amazing enigmatic message trying to seep through the canvas. But Van Gogh, all I see are broad brush strokes. Jackson Pollack - all I see is a headache. The Impressionists - all I see is pre-photographic "snapshots" of the the mundane.. Picasso - beyond my understanding how one eye here & a triangle there & a cube there adds up to anything. I've listened to art critics and read their musings and all that ever seems to emerge for me is waffle, ethereal, abstract dross that has no concrete meaning, just mumbo jumbo that can be interpreted in numerous ways - this includes Sr. Wendy!!! I thought I would get some simplistic clarity from her but no, the same old box of amorphous words. Help, remove the veil (is it an IQ thing?) that limits my .interpretation of the visual.
Nope, you've got it exactly right. This utterly pretentious crap [even though many of these "famous artists" were (deservedly) poor] has subsequently made numerous art "experts", mostly with not-an-ounce of talent in their entire, gray body, very rich. A lot like Justin Bieber or most BPL players, really. Meanwhile, the engineers and scientists who make our world work, are typically treated like no-name journalists and the like.
Don't think you are missing anything, unless you really want to enjoy the artists you mention. It all comes down to whether you like the painting or the artist or not. If you pick any picture by Picasso I'll tell you if I like it and why, no mumbo jumbo, hopefully.
