Today, the morning, still a grey and gloomy day, walk down 12th Avenue to check the galleries. Abundant inspiration. Abstractions, colorful, various new and well reproduced old interpretations of the mountains (in Calgary it will always be the mountains), the prairies, grain elevators, small towns, big skies, prairie fields and sunsets, one gallery, a showing of vibrant colors, broad strokes and thick textures, vivid contrasts, smears and gaudy daubs, Calgary, the artist doesn't appear to be Chinese, but the neon colors evoke the Asian influences on the city. Well done. A couple of other galleries, one, the over-protective curator, I've got to alter, upgrade my homeless wardrobe, we're stalked by the over-zealous/protective curator, nothing here I can't afford, but I can appreciate that he doesn't think so. Eclectic works, again style, not content. Next gallery, a cornucopia of local artists, some Inuit carvings in whalebone, haunted, haunting, demons, mermaids, faces, Eskimos, I like...Native art, cowboy art, oilfield-worker art, art in every conceivable reworking and imitation of the old masters, the new and contemporary masters, in every imaginable fusion of style and technique, by the time we hit 4 galleries I'm done.
I appreciate it all, trying now to paint myself, recognize every success I've not been able to achieve, from the straight line to the harmony of colors, to the people that however abstractly could represent a tree as a tree and have me understand, I'm impressed, I get it, they are infinitely above my skill, but still...each and every painting we saw, an exercise in technique, style, skill, all too recognizable, and all lacking in the "meta-content", the intelligence one might expect or hope from art, all of these are but the pretty pictures wealthier people of limited education choose to hang upon their walls, original, yes, talented, yes, thoughtful...well...
But, let's be real, this is Calgary, Alberta, Canada, and there will never be a market for "thoughtful" or "thought-provoking" here...