On a whim I decided to hop into my car (lovingly dubbed “the box” by my friends) and drive up to the gorgeous Red Bank. I wasn’t sure what it was that made me want to go; I hadn’t been there since a performance and awards show at the historic Count Basie Theatre…
Exploration was in store after a quick stop at Starbucks for the usual soy chai. A few pathetic attempts at parallel parking later, I took to wandering the streets and was greeted with nothing but gorgeous weather, beautiful streets, independent boutiques and adorable cafes. I had just left some vintage shop and was wandering up Monmouth Street a second time when I spotted splashes of color on a brick wall from my peripheral; on said wall was mounted three large canvas paintings, half-hidden in that alleyway.
I was like a child, snapping away excitedly. These weren’t just portraits—there was something distinctively abstract (a contemporary tribute to Picasso, perhaps?) and thoroughly 21st century with its graphic vibrancy. Bright, unabashed, almost graffiti-like heads by Romanian artist Dumitru Gorzo waiting to be found by some unsuspecting passerby.
I was headed home when I spotted this huge wall with more of Gorzo’s heads displayed. A quick 360 and I parked my car at the nearest lot so I could snap these, too.
I don’t think I could put into words how happy I was to find these. Childish excitement might be the best I can do.
It was a day of adventure and discovery, a game of hide-and-seek with these huge heads, that left me wondering why art has become so unapproachable. Why the exclusivity, when art is meant to be dynamic and engage both emotion and discussion? I love a museum and art gallery, but stumbling upon an exhibition like Dumitru Gorzo’s “Heads” has me wishing that art was made public. Art loses its feigned hautiness and becomes tangible, even if it were hidden for that coy-ish sense of mystery. Because once art becomes public, it begs to be looked at, admired and appreciated.
And you can’t help but to stop in your tracks and do exactly that.
. . .
x
Your turn. Thoughts?