Says who, anyway? Us, being devout lovers of all things music, have frequently questioned this--but not so well as our little Noah Finn did today at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA).
During on our evening stroll through the La Brea Tar Pits, just blocks from our house and next door to LACMA, we decided to take advantage of the free after 5:00 p.m. deal at the museum in order to see the visiting installation, "Your Bright Future", by 12 contemporary Korean artists. While meandering through the cavernous hall housing Richard Serra's 183-ton ribbon of weatherized steel, Noah discovered his voice in a way he never had. Shrieking his high-pitched shrills of joy as we advanced from one immensely large exhibition space to the next, Noah nearly shattered Gimhongsok's glass case containing Mao and Nixon's 1972 Cold War milestone conversation--and what a pity that would have been. Sheesh, near miss.
And as Noah squealed at registers migrating whales off the Pacific coast perhaps heard at that moment, Dean and I laughed ourselves to tears. We cared not for the few studious and stuffy patrons eying us from across the room (because, heck even the security guards were buckled over in amusement). We just mosied on through realizing that before Noah Finn, we used to be just like that--thinking that art was reserved for some special sect of childless persons clad in all black who mulled over the minutia of supposed symbolism and nuanced meaning during late Sunday brunch with friends named "Thad" and "Evie".
No. Noah single-handedly shattered the silent stuffy glass box constructed around the art of viewing art. He made it accessible for all--even families with a bright red stroller and an almost 7 month old tot who likes the sound of his own voice . . . especially when echoed in a large room filled with conceptual art.
On our walk home, Noah reasoned that art is meant to be seen and heard . . . and we said that we enjoyed it much better that way.
P.S. A happy, happy birthday to my beautiful sister who turns 21 today. My gosh, how old I do feel.