The Lardner Report

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Art: The Power of Distraction

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(Pic #1) “Top Knot” by Josh Kaplan

No spouse ever wants to hear, “Stop what you’re doing! Don’t move” — especially me — saddled with a serious case of life-long Defiance Disorder. (Yes, it’s a thing.)

Even after a 15-hour day at work, Josh drops everything when he sees a moment — a moment to capture wild art in the camera that never leaves his sight. Today, as I stood in the hallway about to make breakfast, he saw some sweet light and creamy colors behind my top knot, and had to shoot it. No hesitation, no question. Documented in an instant. And it’s a beauty.

The New Me

It’s why I’m making (albeit tardy) a New Year’s Resolution to embrace the distraction. I’m committing to acknowledge the art in front of me. Appreciate it and document it. I can’t count the number of times I get distracted during the day — in the middle of a writing project — and I’ll suddenly feel compelled to dive deep into a completely irrelevant, meaningless rabbit hole. Minutes ago, the original Godfather was streaming on our TV, and I was writing THIS — I just had to know Al Pacino’s actual height. I saw him walking down the street with Diane Keaton, and she was way taller. I had to know.

Well, Pacino is 5-foot 7-inches. And I’m still sitting here.

 

 

Found Art = Value Added

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(Pic #1) A fiberglass panel from an unknown shipwrecked boat. Found in Santa Barbara, Cal.
12″ x 50″ Artist: Crashing waves and mother nature. This piece hangs in our entryway.

The most valuable art — just might be free.

Over the years, I’ve collected a few original pieces from fellow artists — some trades, some purchases — and sometimes small works from “guys on the street.” You may not know their names, but they are meaningful to me. I treasure all of them.

But just as significant — maybe even more so — are the pieces I find, sometimes on the street, or in this case, on the beach. About ten years ago, on a weekend trip to Santa Barbara, while out for a jog, I (literally) stumbled upon a couple of chunks of someone’s ravaged boat sticking up from the sand. They were worn and a little dangerous, as the ocean had roughed up their fiberglass edges.

(Pic #2) Original Cy Twombly drawing, 1967.

But they were beautiful. So I had to ask Josh to help me salvage them to give them the TLC they deserved, along with a rightful place in our home. I might have underestimated their weight, their bulkiness, and their spiky edges. It was a tough haul up to the car. But bless his soul, he made it. The one you see above reminds me of the work by one of my favorite abstract artists, Cy Twombly. (See close-up in Pic #2). Twombly created a compelling black and white “blackboard series” (one of which recently sold for $70-million) in the middle of his career.

It’s always interesting to me how art truly can be found everywhere, we just have to embrace those unexpected stumbles.

Grand Central: Finding A Masterpiece in the Belly Below

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(Pic #1) Left: Cement wall flanking Track 126, Grand Central Station, NYC. Right: Multi-million dollar drip painting with notes, by iconic American artist Cy Twombly (1926-2011).

Unexpected art in the bowels of the world’s most storied station.

It happens to me all the time. I find myself whining about the heat or the physical challenges of navigating the city, and WHAM — the universe tosses a stunning little visual treat my way.

Taking the Metro North up to Westport, Connecticut, I was in one of those moods. The sweltering heat was making me cranky, and my train was leaving from what seemed like the grossest, stinkiest, deepest underground level in the terminal.

Then I suddenly noticed the half-washed walls, layers of soot, and general urban decay finasteride surrounding me.  It wasn’t gross at all — it was stunning. The lack of maintenance and cleaning left patterns of black and white, drips and stains from mold and old paint. Vertical lines from moisture and wear-and-tear. Lovely marks that referenced one of my favorite abstract painters, Cy Twombly. (Pic #1 – right).

I recorded these “museum walls” with my iPhone, and suddenly realized I had one of the best days in NYC in years. So, the biggest secret about Grand Central isn’t the secret sub-basement, (that the Nazis nearly destroyed) but the surprises left on the walls —  from nothing more than neglect. Sometimes art reveals itself in the strangest ways…now if only we could be ever so slightly more aware of its playful intent.