We don't
accept gibberish in literature, as a viable form for writing a
novel, though spoken it can communicate emotion. Certain individuals
have tried the unintelligible, in the music industry, and found that
they couldn't keep an audience.
Yet, it seems that anything and everything done in art is alright:
blank canvases, shopping lists (taken seriously enough to be written
up in the local newspaper), white on white, paintings of one solid
color, scribbles, stucco, pages of a book mounted one after another
on a prestigious government gallery wall (and no one looking at
them, but hurriedly scurrying through, trying hard not to think of
the lost tax dollars). Is there not better `art' in store-front
windows?
Then there was the `meat dress on dress-maker's form', which
necessitated the national art gallery people to stitch up a new
dress out of flank steak every once in a while, because the old one
dried out becoming beef jerky. I actually have done a good job of
forgetting about this work of `art', and certainly don't remember
the `artist's' name, but it serves as too appropriate an example,
not to mention here.
The final touch however, came when the national art gallery curator,
called the unappreciative spectators, `cretins'. For your interest,
Webster's defines a `cretin' as a `person with marked mental
deficiency'
