The Deep by Jackson Pollock 1953
Let me tell you something about Jackson Pollock. I love his art. That’s about it I guess. I do, I like it. I love how it’s messy and all over the place, yet there is still something there, within it. I saw a documentary on him once. Apparently he used to leave his art in random places, by garbage cans and just on the street. So they’ve found his paintings being used as menu boards at restaurant and other odd places. Because people should put their own worth on it, I think. That’s what I am going to make of it at least.
But what I always think about now, whenever I see his paintings, is the story of a woman that was featured in this documentary. This woman apparently had a painting, which looked like a Pollock painting and she was convinced it was. However experts were sure it wasn’t. So she was doing some thing with a finger print they apparently found. For the documentary though, they had hired one of these experts to come check out the painting and give his expert opinion. This man looked at this painting, and looked, and looked, from every angle. Eventually he walked to the back of the room, turned around, bend over, looked between his legs, came back up and definitively declared that this was NOT a Pollock painting. That alone astounded me. The story went further though, because apparently this woman had been offered 2 million dollars for the painting (she wanted to sell it), but because she was sure it should be able to sell for more than 10 million, she was going to get it authenticated and then sell it.
The whole thing astounded me. The way this “expert” came to the conclusion that this was not a Pollock and how at the end of the day this woman only really just wanted money. Art is amazing and it moves people and it is important. Stories like these are long and have their specifics, but mostly they only serve to make me that much more sarcastic and cynical.