When I was younger - much younger - I enjoyed art. A lot. Fuck that. I enjoyed realistic representations of the human form, be it painting, sculpture or photography. Nude is best, of course, because there's no deeper manifestation of total honesty than the naked human form.
Isn't that a load of bullshit? :)
Art is so underrated, honestly. The purpose of art is always a bone of contention. Should it edify? Educate? Glorify? Or should it provoke? Titillate? Agitate?
Some people just need "art" to decorate, in which case, they shouldn't even be looking for art, really, but for mere ornaments. Costume jewellery, perhaps. Just some fancy, disposable bling.
Whatever you need "art" for - whatever purpose you've got for it - art must never, ever be static. The moment art becomes something you merely look at carelessly, you either need to throw it away, or poke your flesh to check whether you're still alive and breathing.
Our trip to the Museu de Arte de Macau allowed us to glimpse proposed pieces that may represent Macao at La Biennale di Venezia.
Amongst many provocative pieces was a monumental sculpture that evoked the Roman colosseum, done entirely using memo pads! A statement on the ascendancy of office culture over our lives? Perhaps.
I enjoyed our little visit. The handsome security guards had big smiles, there were comfy couches all around, rooms were bathed in sweeping pastels, and - best of all - photography was encouraged.
Viva, Macau!
With Affection,
James
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