Exposed to Art

So Mrs. Ares’ employer had their annual awards diner last night. The good news is the grub was free and there was an open bar. The bad news is that it was at the High Museum. It’s only bad because all forms of art appear to be lost on me.

After diner and the awards ceremony the museum opened for our perusal. The current centerpiece is the Louvre exhibit. Let me give you the abbreviated version: Painting, painting, rug on the wall, somebody’s dishes, and a few statues. Walking among the old stuff made me long for a single wish. I desperately want to come back 400 years in the future to see what detritus from our current landscape will pass as art. Call me a heathen, but a lot of the ‘art’ looks like stuff that was just lying around. My crowning moment of mental inferiority was looking at the miniature bronze figures from the first century A.D. About 4 inches high, my immediate thought was that they looked like the Star Wars action figures I played with as a kid. Apparently George Lucas really was on to some universal themes. My next thought, which I idiotically shared aloud with Mrs. Ares was “Look! Mercury has a little itty bitty penis!” That was one of those ‘or worse’ moments they mentioned somewhere in the wedding ceremony.

It was a nice evening. Just about perfect weather and the High is a beautiful space. A tidy little island of serenity tucked into the canyons between skyscrapers in Midtown. The only intrusion was the occasional thumping of car stereos on nearby Peachtree Street. (If there’s a place in metro Atlanta to get away from that I haven’t found it.) The High is also home to the Atlanta Symphony. A little fact I learned about Symphony attendance: You can get gourmet coffee with a shot of Amaretto and a box of Junior Mints before listening to Tchaikovsky. That might just make it go down a little easier. Maybe I’ll be better at the symphony that I was at the Louvre.

Ares