After the Impressionists in the Garden exhibit, we spotted our friend Donna Polseno’s vase in another room at the Taubman Museum. Across from it was a painting by Ray Kass, who I met at my friend Alwyn’s last birthday party and who did the painting that hangs over her couch, which I admire whenever I visit.
Upon closer inspection, we realized that almost everything piece in this installation was made with combs.
There were stacked combs, broken combs, glittering combs, and there was hair.
We learned that it was a major solo exhibition of African American multimedia artist Sonya Clark. She states, “Hairdressers are my heroes. The poetry and politics of Black hair care specialists are central to my work.”
In another room there was a piece made of bobby pins, no relation to the combs.
I love an art museum because I never know what I might see around any corner (like this grape vine and horse hair piece by Millicent Young). Some pieces cause me laugh out loud, others make me breathe deeply. Sometimes my eyes water, other times I get a chill up my spine that makes me twitch.
I think art is like poetry. If you don’t think you like seein art in galleries, you probably just haven’t found the right piece or the right artist. Usually only a handful of pieces in an art museum make a strong impression on me. But oh, when they do. This painting by Virginia artist Mary Chiaramonte was titled “These Memories too are Bound to Die.” I swore that the wallpaper was really peeling off.
Taking pictures of art is almost as good as owning it. I took this picture of Caryl Burtner’s “20 Patricias” because my sister’s name is Patricia and coming upon it delighted me.
And something about keys makes me want to unlock a mystery or go for a car ride.
Oops, Joe dropped ours. / Our World Tuesday