|Modern art. It's all about The Me|
|Humlebæk train station|
|At the Louisiana border|
|Closer view of the Øresund|
|Looking out at the Øresund|
|A couple of Max Ernst statues|
They had a few obscure Warhols.
They also had this black-on-black painting. I swear I saw this very work at the Corcoran in D.C. in the 1980s. If you stare at it long enough, a black cross emerges from the canvas. I had to have seen it before. How many all-black paintings of crosses can there be out there? Well, and still have this be transgressive?
They had etchings from the artist Freud. No. Not Sigmund. Lucian. A grandchild.
And they had some interesting pre-Columbian statuary that was just like what I saw in the museums of Bogotá and Cartagena.
Like the Picassos.
And definitely like the Pollocks.
Ask me someday what I think of Jackson Pollock. You will gallons of Nature's Miracle to clean up the filth I will spew. Although, getting back to Picasso, I do subscribe to the theory that art died the day Picasso discovered the cube,
As the art got more "ultra modern," the more fun the people watching became.
The collection rotates very frequently. So what I'm making light of today will be gone tomorrow and replaced by something even more transgressive.
This section left me feeling like I just walked onto the set of "Laugh-In".
I half expected Jo Anne Worley to pop out of one of the balls screaming,
Or perhaps Judy Carne saying "sock it to me." Is that too much to ask?
It was all so transgressively beautiful when I finally beheld the ultimate objet d'art in all of Louisiana,
I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.
Looking more bored than a Warhol model at a Factory party, I am.
One more me of me, this time in a room that was more Dr. Seuss than Rowan and Martin.
So did I like any of the art at the Louisiana? Yes. They had Arp.
I have an art poster of an Jean Arp exhibit in D.C. from the mid 1980s. I liked the above.
But that one was a little too turd-like for my tastes. I liked this guy, whoever he was.
I did not go down the slide. I'm not that whimsical.
So what was my favorite piece?
Joan Miró. Personnage. Seriously. Surrounded by all this other ultra-modernist stuff, I can appreciate the talent, creativity and craftmanship in Miró. That cinches it, I am absolutely definitely going to the Joan Miró museum in Barcelona when I go there next week.
This guy (or gal) guarding the exit.