the smedley log - suburban scrawl

Pollocks and Rembrandts

I’ve been thinking of the story of Teri Horton, who bought what may be a Jackson Pollock painting for five bucks at a thrift store.

If you’re not the biggest fan of Pollock or abstract expressionism, it may be useful to remember that the 2006 sale of Pollock’s “No. 5” fetched $140 million. That would be the highest price of any painting in history. Imagine picking up a painting worth even a fraction of that price for just a few dollars at the local Salvation Army.

I’m fairly certain that I’m not alone in my ignorance of, or lack of appreciation for, the work of Jackson Pollock. I bet most ordinary folks couldn’t identify one of his paintings to save their lives. For some people, identifying other forms of beauty can be equally mystifying.

Just because the majority of Americans (not unlike Teri Horton) can’t tell you who Pollock was, much less analyze his paintings, does that take away from the artistic (or monetary) value of his work? Of course not.

Ms. Horton, on the advice of an art teacher, an art restorer and a former art dealer, has persisted for years now that her thrift store find is a genuine Pollock. This, despite the art world insiders who almost uniformly oppose her assertion. Among those who are hedging is one collector who offered nine million dollars for it.

Interestingly, Teri Horton turned down the nine million dollar offer. She decided to hold out for more, despite what the art snobs have told her. Whether or not Horton’s five dollar Pollock is genuine, we can be sure she was better off not having tossed it in the trash heap the first time it was branded a fake. And something tells me she has the same firm belief in herself as she’s shown in her thrift store masterpiece.

A lot of our culture can be found in a story like this. I’ve been thinking lately about how we identify beauty in the people and things around us, as well as in ourselves. Do we listen to what the masses say? Or do we trust ourselves to overrule them? Do we get caught up in comparing Pollock to Rembrandt (or apples to oranges), as if the two share quantifiable benchmarks? Or do we recognize the many forms of beauty that exist in the world around us? And if so, do we allow for that kind of diversity in ourselves?

As someone who is pretty schizo in my taste in things (just about anything to which there is an aesthetic), I can relate to this. Don’t have time to chick the links, but I kind of like the concept of it being a Pollock because, with some educated input (but not the full Monty) it is – being content feeling like she owns a Pollock without having to sell it (which may not be true if I read the articles, hmmm. very meta).

I also like your final paragraph and relate to it on 2 levels – coming out of the latest election and trying to psych myself for my monthly attempt at sending letters to people at match.com (which depresses me to no end). I’m on the monthly thing for 6 months where I have to try to contact 5 people a month and then I get 6 months free, and I have 3 to go. Oh well, at the end of the year, I think I pretty much get a free pass forever at ever having to try dating again (may be the only plus).

The first time I heard of Pollock was when I saw the movie…

I am so uncultured it hurts.

But hey, Ed Harris rocks.

I saw that piece on TV. Looks similar to a Pollock. The lady that bought it has a far more interesting face than that splattered painting!

At the risk of sounding like a snob – I have a Pollock pring hanging over my sofa at home. Modern art in all its forms is a love of mine, and I will go to D.C. for nothing other than the Hirshorn and the East Building of the Smithsonian Art Museum.

Anyway, on the beauty issue, I wonder if our tastes are created by us or outsiders. My initial reaction to those “mis-matched” man and woman couples we see around is that they are playing out their own firm beliefs in themselves and others by not allowing the marketplace to determine beauty.

A Pollock print. I don’t know what a pring is.

Ellen – We’re all works of art; it just depends on which style.

Eric – Don’t beat yourself up about the Pollock ignorance. On the other point, Ed Harris does rock.

Jessica – She’s an interesting woman. I didn’t know what to make of her when I saw the CNN piece. She certainly has a confidence to her.

Anthony – If you hadn’t informed me that was a typo, I would have probably assumed (for a little while longer) that a “pring” was just some special Pollock style I didn’t know about

Seriously, I’d like to appreciate Pollock more; I’m just not up on some of these things. (And on an unrelated note, I will someday try to answer a certain meme I asked to be involved in.)

This post makes me wonder if I should re-engage in my thriftstoring habit…

Before I got glasses, my vision wasn’t terrible, but I saw everything through sort of a blurry haze. I actually remember feeling really shocked when I got glasses because things weren’t nearly as gentle or beautiful. That fuzzy vision made it a whole lot easier to see beauty in all things. I still miss it to a certain degree.

As for Pollock (and art in general) it took me by surprise. The ex and I used to stay with friends who lived in Arlington. One Saturday they suggested we go to the East Building. I was instantly hooked on Rothko, Pollock, Diebenkorn and Jasper Johns. Seeing them in person is SO much more exciting than seeing prints in books – or even prings.

I think it’s the elementary excitement of the colors, their vibrancy and size that is overwhelming to me. I get a little emotional when I’m there, and I don’t know why and don’t try to fight it. It’s good for my soul.