Artsy Fartsy

It’s interesting being married to an artist and going to art shows. Matt and I have a history of getting in fights at museums. It was always this weird thing where he’d get all silent and brooding and I would wonder what he was thinking and he’d never know what he was thinking and I was bored and when were we going to eat. It’s gotten better over the years, partly because Matt is not immersed in the fine art world (illustration is a slightly different art world), but mostly because we’re married and it’s just a lot easier. This weekend we went to the Milwaukee Art Museum to see the Francis Bacon show. We did have an argument, but that had nothing to do with the show (I was mad because he couldn’t take a good picture of me for promotional purposes, and he was mad because I was being a bitch). I never know what I’m supposed to be doing at an art show. I see the paintings, but it’s rarely a profound experience for me. My favorite art experiences were in Italy, when I could see all of the myths represented in artwork and I knew the stories. I like stories. What I tend to notice most in galleries and museums are the frames. Who chose them? Why? How fancy! At the Francis Bacon show, I noticed that all of the frames were gold. Yet many of the paintings were owned by different people. Why did they all have gold frames? Did Bacon himself choose them? Did he force everyone who bought his paintings to frame them in gold? Did the museum change all of the frames for the show? Will I ever know the answer? I suppose I could ask someone at the museum. But then what would I think about the next time I visit a gallery?