Sunday Jul 18, 2004
For Your Own Self
The other day I was in a cafe where picked up a copy of The New York Times. I turned to the art section that featured a variety of reviews, including a film I was interested in and the premiere of new cable TV series.
I don’t read reviews. This was a moment of weakness.
But, it was too late. The die was caste. My eyes had scanned the print, and my mind had taken in the words. Again, I was being told what to expect and why the film was weak and why the star of the cable series was wooden. I had been infected by what someone else saw.
Art is what it is.
Each person brings his own experience, depth of feeling, and level of appreciation to each art event, performance or painting. When you hear or read someone translating what the art in question means for you, then it is what it sounds like. You are experiencing the rendition through the filtration system of another, which is secondhand and may not be yours.
Unless I have a specific motive, I don’t read reviews of films or art exhibits. I don’t want my perception adulterated by another. I don’t want to be told what I’m supposed to experience.
I want to feel the art for my own self.