Alright, so today I'm gonna talk about my little adventure with famous abstract art. You know, the stuff you see in museums that makes you scratch your head sometimes. I figured, instead of just staring at it, I'd try to, like, get into it. Understand it, maybe even try my hand at it. Yeah, big ambitions, I know.
My First Brilliant Idea: Just Copy It!
So, where do you even start? I thought, "Okay, let's look at the big shots." You got your Pollocks, your Rothkos, your Kandinskys. Their paintings are, well, famous for a reason, right? Or so they say. My bright idea was to try and replicate some of their styles. Seemed like a good way to learn, or at least that's what I told myself.
First up, Jackson Pollock. The drip guy. Looked easy enough. Get some paint, get a canvas, start flinging. Let me tell you, my garage was a disaster. Paint everywhere. And it didn’t look like some profound expression of inner turmoil. It looked like a paint can exploded. My dog was very confused, and frankly, so was I. It was a mess. Not an artistic mess, just a plain old mess.
Then I moved on to Mark Rothko. Big blocks of color. How hard could that be? Well, turns out, harder than it looks. Mine just looked like I’d painted a couple of uneven squares. There was no "vibrating color" or "spiritual experience." It was just… paint on a canvas. A bit boring, if I'm honest. I started thinking, maybe there’s a secret I’m missing, or maybe these guys were just really good at talking about their work.
Getting My Hands Properly Dirty
I didn't give up though. I thought, "Okay, maybe direct copying isn't the way." I decided to just grab some supplies – brushes, paints, some cheap canvases – and just... go for it. No plan. Just feelings, or whatever abstract artists say they're doing.
I tried to channel some Kandinsky vibes, you know, with the shapes and lines. That was a bit more fun, felt like being a kid again, just doodling. But when I stepped back, it still felt a bit… random. Like, what was I even trying to say? Probably nothing, which, I guess, is sometimes the point? I don’t know.
Here’s a funny story. I got a bit into it for a while, just slapping paint around. My neighbor, old Mr. Henderson, popped his head over the fence while I was "in the zone" in the backyard. He just stared for a bit, then said, "Lost a fight with a rainbow, did ya, son?" Couldn't even be mad, it was pretty accurate. My masterpiece looked like a unicorn had thrown up.
I also remember trying to explain one of my "creations" to my niece. She’s seven. I told her it was about "expressing hidden emotions." She tilted her head, looked at the canvas, then back at me, and said, "It looks like a spider fell in the jam." Kids, they don't hold back.
So, What Did I Learn?
After all this experimentation, what’s the takeaway? Well, I still don’t think I’m going to be the next big abstract artist, that's for sure. And yeah, some of it still baffles me. I see a canvas that's just one color and people are oohing and aahing, and I’m thinking, "Really?"
But, and this is a big but, I do have a bit more appreciation for it. It's not always as easy as it looks. Trying to make something that’s not of something, but still is something… it’s tricky. It takes a certain kind of thinking, or maybe just a lot of confidence. Or maybe, as I suspected, a bit of luck and good marketing for some of the famous ones.
My own attempts are now mostly hidden in the attic. Maybe one day they'll be "vintage abstract explorations." More likely, they'll just gather dust. But it was a fun process, this whole practice. Made me look at things a bit differently. And it definitely made me respect the people who can actually make a "mess" look meaningful. Or at least, convince others that it is.
