The Exhibition: Opinions

The latest art exhibition organised by my sons was in Vienna's 18th district, which borders the Vienna Woods. Since the days of the Kaiser, or even earlier, the imperial aristocracy settled in this area. A rich district. Expensive. Stuffed with old mansions with coats of arms on the facades. Property is not cheap.

And so it was doubly interesting to see the exhibition. But from the very first minutes I felt some disappointment: the three-storey house where the exhibition was held was clad in scaffolding. As it later turned out, the building was soon to be demolished and something monumental erected in its place.

"Take a look inside, it's even worse there," my elder son answered me. "But it's intentional. It's the concept of the exhibition. If you only knew what it cost us to get precisely this house! And then not only students of the academies hang their paintings in it, but established artists too. People with names. For them the concept we came up with also seemed important."

"All right, we'll see," I said without making up my mind, stepping over the threshold of the building.

He was probably right when he said that inside the house looked far worse than outside. I had seen something similar more than once in our old wrecked Soviet houses, which looked as if the Allies had bombed them: parquet floors torn up, toilets smashed, no taps...

As a kid, a boy, I loved climbing around in them and always found something interesting. Once I found a medal from the time of Peter the Great, which was soon safely "lifted" from me; another time, the collected works of Stalin. And people weren't afraid, they kept them!

"There was no electricity here either, but we rented a generator and ran light into all the rooms. It's not so bright, but it's on every floor. And people can look at the paintings and installations."

"And did many people come?" I asked with some doubt.

"The exhibition is in two buildings, and the second is a hundred metres from here. It has completely different paintings, not like the ones you'll see. So, so many people gathered there to see them that they clogged two adjoining streets. Traffic jams formed, cars couldn't get through, and three times several police cars at once pulled up to find out what was going on. And they were very surprised that

"I understand.. Of course, organising an exhibition is very hard work. Even hanging dozens of paintings and properly securing the installations, in a building that is not small, takes quite a few hours. Does anyone help you?"

"Of course. Without that it would have been impossible to do such a huge amount of work," my elder son replied. "We have friends in both academies. Many artist acquaintances. They help."

"And how exactly do they help?"

"Take this case. We picked seven people, each of whom is responsible for his own sector. And they choose another ten people among their friends who help them."

"But they have to be paid. Nobody works for nothing. Everyone has their own business."

"Perhaps someday we will pay, but right now we don't have that kind of money. Of course, there are people who help us financially, but that money is very small."

"So it turns out seventy people helped you?"

"Maybe a few more."

"That's a small enterprise."

"It turns out so."

We went through the ground floor and climbed to the second, where I saw paintings, let's say, unlike any I had seen before.

"Could anyone really like these painted pictures?" I asked in bewilderment.

"How much do you think, for example, this painting costs?" Nikita pointed to a painting on which circles were drawn.

"I think it's not worth anything. I wouldn't even hang it in the street."

"And yet this painting costs two thousand euros. It has already been bought, like all the paintings hanging here. They were lent to us for the duration of the exhibition. Afterwards we have to return them, and we promised that nothing would happen to them."

"And who painted them?" I asked in bewilderment. "Some madman?"

"You hit the nail on the head. Precisely madmen. On the Western market such paintings are very popular. After all, these people are wired somehow differently from us, and therefore they feel differently and perceive the world around them differently. And so they paint differently from us. An ordinary person couldn't paint like that, even if he really wanted to. And then, not everyone has a bent for painting. Their explanations of their own paintings are very interesting; he may draw some triangles and say that he drew

"But I see that the paintings differ. There are truly talented works, and there are, how to put it more gently... failed ones. One gets the impression that these artists can't paint at all."

"That opinion is mistaken. They can paint. It's just that not every adult can paint a picture like a child. He sees differently," Nikita objected. "There are no random people at the exhibition. We selected the works very carefully, and there were many who wanted to take part."

"But tell me, do you really like this painting?" I pointed my son to a big multicoloured blot. "It's just daubing. Anyone can paint like that. You don't even need to study painting for it."

"That's not so. You do. Look closely at this painting. See how the paints are laid on. How they blend. And the painting itself has several layers. And these layers pass from one to another. Outwardly it may resemble a blot, but in reality this painting is technically very complex."

"But they didn't paint like this before. Reality was visible. Viewers got aesthetic pleasure from a painted picture. Paintings lifted the mood. One wanted to have such paintings in one's home. But now, can you really hang such daubing in your apartment?"

"This exhibition is a challenge. The time when real images were painted has passed. You can't go back to what was five hundred years ago. All the museums are full of such paintings. Now they paint differently. Art develops. It doesn't stand still. Just as science and technology don't stand still. Everything moves. You say you wouldn't hang this painting on the wall..... But quite a few people will want to acquire precisely this painting, knowing how masterfully it is executed technically. Look at this brushstroke..... Beneath it are three layers, and in the last one you can make out an image. It isn't intrusive. That's the intention. Dad, to be honest, you don't understand art."

"A bold statement."

"But tell me. Did you study this? No. And I study it every day, I go to lectures, take exams. I get theoretical knowledge. I paint, finally!"

"If I didn't study art history, that doesn't mean I don't understand it. I read books on art. I'm simply interested in it. And then, I wrote several books about Leonardo da Vinci, about Pablo Picasso, about others..."

And then I wrote several books about Leonardo da Vinci, about Pablo Picasso, about other artists....

"When did Leonardo da Vinci live? Five hundred years ago. He had no idea what technique would replace his. What materials there would be. What methods would be used in painting."

"Now they paint in a simplified way. Even primitively. Not the way they used to."

"You may be surprised by my words, but painting the way they painted before is easier. Before, everything was as if real. Develop your technique and paint away! Now it's different: you need to work out a concept too, to come up with something nobody has done before. Apply new methods. Surprise. And that is precisely the hardest part."

"And what is your concept?"

"Did you see the shabby walls in the house?"

"Of course, they're everywhere here."

"Did you see the paintings painted by people with mental disorders?"

"There was a whole room of such paintings!"

"Well then... Our society is just as imperfect as this building. It will certainly be demolished and another, more convenient one built in its place. But even in such a building there must be a place for everyone