Certain works of Art have always irked me, from the paint splattering of Jackson Pollock, the asinine performance art of Yoko Ono, all the way back to Marcel Duchamp's Dada "Fountain." (See picture of signed urinal) It seems like I just don't understand contemporary art.
Well there is a new sheriff in town when it comes to art that I don't understand: Jonathan Schipper. This "artist" gets a couple of Firebirds from the seventies and using hydraulics slowly crushes them together, in an exhibit he calls "The Slow and Inevitible Death of American Muscle." This is art ladies and gentlemen. Now what really bothers me about this more then anything is that the same people who would enjoy his work would stick their nose's up at true artists and craftsmen. Men like Barris, Roth, Starbird, Winfield, Coddington, Foose, and the other thousands of people in the garage every weekend are not counted as artists. Well I call bull on that. I'll keep spending my days staring at the lines and form of a customized car or as I call it: Art. I'll tell you one thing, its better then watching Yoko Ono parade around with a bag on her head, or as she calls it: Art.
P.S. Why couldn't this guy have used a couple of Yugos instead?