East Wing of The National Gallery of Art:

Modern Art

 I’ve never known how to recognize or define modern art. I thought that going to the East Wing of the National Gallery of Art might clear some of that up for me, but after spending an hour or so wandering around, I think I might be even more confused than before.

            The East Wing was designed by I.M. Pei, and opened in 1974. The inside of the museum is a maze of oddly shaped halls, angular ceilings and, of course, this thing we call “art”. The first room we came upon was a large, bright, open, and very white room, excepting the large canvases on the far wall. Each one was painted a different color; one was red, one green, one yellow, etc. My first thought was, I could do that. I found myself thinking this more than once throughout my walk through the East Wing. There were a couple of huge canvases, about six feet by six feet, that were painted all white. An ordinary bathroom sink was attached to one wall, a little crookedly, and labeled “Slanted Sink.” There were also some more “normal” pieces: mobiles, sculptures and still lives. Obviously, modern art isn’t a very specific term.

            And I probably could have done that, attached that sink to the wall or taken the time to paint an already white canvas over again in the same color. Would I ever have thought of doing that? No. To me it seems as though modern art is a chance for people to use their minds as opposed to their talent with brushes or pencils. It’s a creative way for people to express their thoughts using whatever medium happens to convey the idea best—paint, paper, metal, stone, sand—anything. Also, I feel like it has a different meaning to everyone who comes upon it, which is almost definitely a good thing.