Amanda and I took the afternoon off and visited the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. The museum routine of standing in one place before walking a short distance to a new spot to stand in place, together with creaky and arthritic knees, reminds one that the making and enjoyment of art is mainly for those who do not lack the basic creature comforts.
"Look at this Matisse," says Amanda. Yeah. What would really be beautiful, I'm thinking, is a bench to sit on. You have to be careful though. Once I almost sat down on a work of art.
I have little interest in cereal bowls from the Huan dynasty. Diane Arbus, however, is another story. She's known for her photographs of nudists, dwarfs, giants and other manifest freaks, like a little boy with a toy hand grenade. I prefer the disguised freaks--for example, the husband and wife sunning themselves on their lawn in Westchester. You can see it in Minneapolis through October 20.
