One thing is for sure; it's not about fish:
My friend Paul works as a traveling nurse. Several years ago we met up in Manhattan. It was raining. What to do?
I suggested a visit to MOMA (the Museum of Modern Art), as it was close and cheap, warm and dry. Paul, at that time, wasn't big on the museum thing. I had in fact just discovered the wonder myself, even though I had been dragged into these structures often as a child.
We happened upon a Jackson Pollock retrospective. We had no idea who this artist was as we started wandering around his work. What we were learning from reading the walls was that this was a troubled man, who drank a lot and was depressed. Most of the literature indicated how Pollock's dark mood was quite evident in his work. He used his work to express his inner-life that was filled with emotional turmoil. He even died young, at 44, in a wild car crash.
But all I saw was joy.
Okay, maybe it was drunken joy in those spattered up paintings, but the whole lot looked like plain fun. I just wasn't getting the anger. Yet, I was feeling emotion. And, I guess, it was said that he was trying to create emotion on the canvas. He was dubbed an American Abstract Expressionist painter. That's what I call, hitting the nail on the head or the enamel on the canvas for that matter.
We really had a good time walking around and thinking about these "modern" paintings. I mean, almost like the fun you'd have walking around the state fair, well, sort of.
So, when I heard Pollock was to be at the Everson Museum right here in downtown Syracuse, I called Paul. He was back in CNY, and as luck would have it, rain was falling.