A WORK OF ART

A Work of Art

Art is in the eye of the beholder -- yes, beauty  too.

They all seem to love the candelabra -- too much. (Liberace, anyone?)

Female nudes kept in an office or the home -- might not be apropos back then.

Surely, that has changed.

We are beyond all that type of prudishness.

Right?

Taking my six- year old son to the Metropolitan Museum of Art the other day -- walking by the ancient Greek statues he had three words to describe all those amazing sculptures the guide was brilliantly describing to a group of sophisticated tourists: Pee pee, butt, and boobs.

How childish. Not one of those sophisticated tourists was thinking the same thing. They were transfixed in the subtlety of the stone and the impressive use of angles and realism and making comparisons to the different uses of styles to represent the fusion between  . . .

Chekhov is of course poking fun at us and cleverly uses our mores to fashion a witty story which reminds me a bit of O.Henry's story: The Gift of the Magi. 
(Don't ask me why. The stories have absolutely nothing in common.)

There is an interesting article in the New York Times today about whether or not art can still shock.

It can.

If it's truly art.

Chekhov, as usual, is ahead of his time.