I don’t understand modern art…

I know you have to have a bit of an imagination to really appreciate a lot of modern art, but seriously, some of the stuff I saw in the Malba Museum of Latin American Art in Buenos Aires yesterday just baffled me. Behind my friend Marta here is a mushroom cloud created from lumps of fake pooh.

It’s a certifiable fake-shit tornado. So someone woke up one morning and thought, I know, I am going to make a tornado out of turds and then I am going to put it in  a museum and not let anyone take photos of it up close. That’s why I’m far away with the camera, because when I tried to get close I was told off. I was also reprimanded after I snuck a pic of this potato and lump of charcoal.

I mean you can sort of understand their concern with the photos. Obviously it’s only a matter of time before I go from casual iPhone photographer to artist, stealing the design plan and creating my own spinning shit weather pattern masterpiece… maybe a turd tsunami. Or maybe I’d steal the clever layout of this potato and charcoal, because it must have taken months to place them on this piece of white paper.

I do like this bench. But then, the bench has a point. You can use it. It has a purpose, until it goes all bendy and starts climbing up the wall.

This thing below looks like one of those plastic spoons you use to serve heaps of spaghetti from a bowl onto someone’s plate has woken up in the middle of the night and gone about eating other plastic utensils from the kitchen drawer. There was no explanation to be found on the wall, but I’m thinking ‘spaghetti server goes bad’ is what I’d call it.

Someone was paid to make this.

Just think about that for a moment.

As for the next piece… well I initially walked into the room and thought ‘Oh dear, someone has dropped their coat.’ I was about to pick it up when I realised it was attached to a giant hook, like a fisherman had plunged it from a mermaid’s wardrobe at the bottom of the ocean and left it on the floor of a museum to be called art.

Nobody else seemed as bothered by this as I was, but I left it there before I got too upset and then I left the museum because trying to understand art hurts my brain and I much prefer eating cake.

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