Review, in Haiku

    Sometimes I read art reviews which, I have been told, is nigh-on sin for an artist.  Afterward, wracked by guilt and generally dissatisfied with what I've read, I genuflect in the direction of MoMA and say a little prayer:

Dear God,
Please help the art critics just get to the point already, and let them do it in a way that is accessible and also poetic, and yet retains something  of the intelligence for which they are presumably paid.  And tell Damien Hirst to cut the crap already. 

Amen.


    But sometimes it seems like even God can't get through to the Roberta Smith set.  So, in my personal quest to honor the spirit of simplicity that I demand from the art world cognoscenti,  I have begun to employ a bastardized version of the famed form of Japanese poetry known as Haiku to help me formulate and convey my own opinions of artistic and cultural events.  I will share some of these Haiku now.


Venice Bienalle

I didn't know they had
plumbing in Romania -
much less, such good art.

Kelis concert:

I bet it's hard to
bring Turkish boys to the yard
since they don't drink milk.

Also, "suk calkmak"
is Turkish for "milkshake," and
that's just not  sexy.


Antony and the Johnsons concert

Stirrup pants? Glitter?
Androgyny?  So eighties.
You work it, girl/boy.

Shakira concert:

Sometimes my hips lie.
Like when they told me that you
were not a midget.

Who am I to judge?
Singing imp (with truthful hips),
Get in my pocket!


Istanbul Modern  Museum (and café)

Good mozzarella
Is hard to find in this town.
It's been hiding here.

The paintings?  If you
like derivative crap then
they were pretty good.

Oh yeah.  I forgot.
I liked that one ink drawing.
It wasn't labeled.





 

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