Urban Shocker
Doyenne
When it comes to the arts, I'm a great believer in jumping in at the deep end, immersing completely, and figuring out the meaning as you go.
The fundamental unit of exchange is the direct connection between the artist and the audience. It's a cross-cultural experience too - you don't need to know the first thing about the culture that produced the wood carvings in the AGO's Murray Frum Gallery of African art, for instance, to be touched by their beauty. The short video interview with Richard Gorman in the AGO's Signy Eaton gallery 224 explains this emotional connection - the openness and, dare I say, the lack of fear that it thrives on, and how it works ... far better than I could. Ken Thomson wanted his collection to be appreciated that way too - hence, no labels beneath the paintings to distract the viewer or "interpret" what they're supposed to feel before they see the work.
Those great "time stood still" moments at a concert, or at an opera, come when technique, audience, orchestra, and performers melt away and all that's left is the message of the music - mainlined directly from the creative imagination of the composer.
The same goes with buildings. You can't derive anything more from something than was put in, creatively, in the first place. It's that mysterious 2% that lifts it into the realm of beauty and improves the quality of life. You can appreciate it, but not define how it was done.
The fundamental unit of exchange is the direct connection between the artist and the audience. It's a cross-cultural experience too - you don't need to know the first thing about the culture that produced the wood carvings in the AGO's Murray Frum Gallery of African art, for instance, to be touched by their beauty. The short video interview with Richard Gorman in the AGO's Signy Eaton gallery 224 explains this emotional connection - the openness and, dare I say, the lack of fear that it thrives on, and how it works ... far better than I could. Ken Thomson wanted his collection to be appreciated that way too - hence, no labels beneath the paintings to distract the viewer or "interpret" what they're supposed to feel before they see the work.
Those great "time stood still" moments at a concert, or at an opera, come when technique, audience, orchestra, and performers melt away and all that's left is the message of the music - mainlined directly from the creative imagination of the composer.
The same goes with buildings. You can't derive anything more from something than was put in, creatively, in the first place. It's that mysterious 2% that lifts it into the realm of beauty and improves the quality of life. You can appreciate it, but not define how it was done.
