F-Arty Friday – Sandy Confesses to AIC (Art Inferiority Complex)

Yvonne has written about art with confidence in her recent series of F-arty Friday blogs—a confidence I know she’s gained from visits to many galleries and perusing her extensive collection of arty-books. And possibly from the source of all wisdom, Wikipedia.

The signs of her passion were obvious long ago. Very early in Yvonne’s career, she chose to invest her meager savings in a couple of Henry Ranger paintings that spoke to her (not literally). At the time, I believed that money would have been far better spent at Banana Republic. But now I realize that the clothes she might have bought would be in a dump site, whereas the art continues to adorn her walls.

























I’ve never had Yvonne’s comfort level in galleries. In fact, I live in fear that the art police will recognize me as a poseur and throw me out.

This fear is not entirely unfounded. Once, during one of our many road trips to Buffalo, Yvonne and I took a break from what I consider culture—specifically cross-border shopping—and hit the local Albright-Knox gallery. While we were basking in the glow of some great work of art, a security guard accosted us for the heinous crime of... chewing gum. He followed us to the trash can and watched as we spit it out, an expression of supreme contempt on his face. Then he followed us from room to room, making sure we didn’t break any more rules.

Yvonne recovered quickly but my Art Inferiority Complex sticks to me like, er... chewing gum. I overcome it in other countries, and recall visits to galleries in London, Paris and New York City quite fondly. But at home, I’d rather appreciate Starbucks than art.

Still, when Yvonne’s husband uttered the magic words “free admission” recently, I was happy to join him at the Art Gallery of Ontario. It had been many years since I’d last visited and a renovation has turned it into quite a spectacular site.

We were lucky enough to catch a special exhibit on the work of David Blackwood, a Canadian printmaker whose art explores the struggle for survival between humans and nature in Newfoundland, one of the most exposed and hostile environments on earth.

I got chills standing in front of some of his pieces—and I don’t mean figuratively. His depictions of snowy Newfoundland really draw the viewer in.

The only thing that would have improved the visit for me was a tour guide. I learn more by listening, but spare me the headphones. Because the major benefit of a tour guide for someone with AIC is that being part of a crowd makes you feel like you belong.

So my advice to fellow artophobes is to visit galleries with friends, keep visits short, and join a tour when you can.

And never, ever chew gum. Also, touching the art? Bad idea. But that’s another story.