The Spectacle(s)

The weather can have a curious effect on human behavior. Motorists, for example, frequently lose all driving ability when it rains, and when the Summer heat descends, sanity often departs the scene. There is a well-documented correlation between temperature records and crime rates, after all, and even the most skeptical observer would be hard-pressed to attribute this to mere coincidence. For some unknowable reason, people do strange things when the mercury rises.

    That was probably the reason Ms. Moore decided on the Galleria D’Art Moderna as the destination for her grade 8 class field trip that year – the heat must have pickled her brains. The nuances of modern art are lost on most adults, so a bunch of 14-year olds could hardly have been expected to appreciate the works on display.

    To be fair to Ms. Moore, she’d been dying to visit the new gallery since its opening the month before, so her decision was likely a wily attempt to combine business and pleasure. Never a good idea, and so it proved for her. She had a torrid time keeping her rowdy class in line, and by the time they made an early departure shortly before lunch, she was as relieved to be rid of the place as the children.

*

    Tyler was feeling decidedly uneasy as he made his way down the stairs and out the building with the rest of his classmates. He’d enjoyed the gallery no more than his peers – his little sister’s finger paintings held more visual appeal the artwork on display – but that wasn’t the cause of his growing concern. Nor was it the heat, although its sapping effect, along with the sweat streaming down his nose, made concentrating on what was bothering him all but impossible. He had the vague but persistent nagging sensation one commonly experiences when something obvious has been overlooked. But, as he made his way towards the waiting school bus, Tyler couldn’t for the life of him think what it was.

*

    On the second floor of the gallery, Noah Brite was as unimpressed with the displays as the group of young students who’d just trooped past. But, unlike them, he had no hope of an early escape. His fiancee, Becky, had insisted on dragging him along on the ‘cultural outing’ and Noah had reluctantly agreed. The wedding was still weeks away, but he’d already learned the secret to a happy long-term relationship was the phrase: ‘Yes, Dear’.

    Noah was not an art connoisseur. The whole idea of modern art seemed like a joke to him. So far, he’d seen a painting that looked suspiciously like the artist had barfed all over it, a sculpture resembling a heap of scrap metal, and a blank canvas with only a tiny green dot in the upper lefthand corner. Calling any of this art was a stretch. He couldn’t understand why anyone would actually pay to see this stuff.

     And yet the gallery was packed. Maybe it was the heat. As far as Noah could tell, the only redeeming feature of the prestigious Galleria D’Art Moderna was the state-of-the-art airconditioning system. 

     He was busy checking his watch yet again, wondering if it was too early to suggest lunch, when Becky, flitting from painting to painting like some deranged hummingbird on a neverending nectar quest, stopped abruptly in the center of the corridor. She seemed to be examining something on the floor.

    Coming up alongside her, Noah saw a pair of red-framed reading glasses lying on the black-and-white checkered tiles. Becky wasn’t the only one transfixed by the sight – a small crowd of onlookers had already gathered.

    “Noah, look! Isn’t this incredible?”

    “Um, I don’t think that’s a display, Becks. It’s just a pair of glasses.”

    “Of course it’s a display, silly. Why else would it be in the gallery?”

    Noah was about to commit the fatal error of disagreeing with his fiancee when an older, distinguished-looking gentleman in a tweed suit stepped out of the growing crowd and spoke up. “She’s right, young man.”

    “She is?”

    “Yes, of course. The name’s Burns. Ed Burns. I’m an art historian and I must say, not only is this a fine piece of artwork, but it is also one of the most profoundly beautiful things I have ever seen.”

    “What do you mean?” Noah was thoroughly confused now.

    “Why, just look at it! Beauty, in the aesthetic sense, is merely a function of symmetry. Equal proportions are pleasing to the human eye. Notice the exact dimensions of the frame? Exquisite. I can’t believe I’ve never seen this piece before.”

    “It’s not symmetrical, though. Not perfectly,” Noah pointed out. “See the small crack in the lens over there?”

    “Ah, yes. But that is entirely deliberate, I can assure you. Think of the Mona Lisa, the most beautiful painting in the world. Da Vinci highlights the immaculate proportions of his subject’s face by including asymmetrical elements in the background - the horizon is higher on one side than the other. It’s a devilishly clever trick, and we see the same thing done here. The lack of symmetry in the lenses only serves to accentuate the perfection of the frame.”

    “I see,” Noah breathed. And he did. What Burns said made sense. Viewed in this new light, the spectacles did indeed seem beautiful.

    A young woman wearing glasses of her own stepped forward. “And notice the orientation,” she observed. “It’s facing East, towards the rising sun. That’s a powerful representation of the New Dawn concept of modern art, a symbolic representation of looking boldly to the future; of spiritual awakening. I’m an art student and I see this all the time, although never done with quite such skill and finesse as this. Remarkable.”

    Not wanting to be forgotten, Becky piped up, “What about its position on the floor? It’s straddling two tiles, see? Half on the black and half on the white. That seems significant… “

    “My god, you’re right!” Burns exclaimed. “The whole black-white duality dynamic, contrasting juxtaposition concept is clearly evident. Incredible! It’s been a prevailing theme in artwork for centuries, of course. We see it everywhere – yin and yang, day and night, good and evil. Its masterful inclusion here speaks to the artistic genius behind this piece.”

    Noah, more captivated by the display with every passing moment, voiced the obvious question. “But who is the artist?”

    The art student fielded that one. “Anonymous displays like this are quite common. It’s a practice dating back to the early Renaissance period when preeminent artists wanted their efforts to be assessed solely on merit. The creator of this masterpiece intended his work to stand alone; to speak for itself. I dare say he, or she, is quite famous. We are in the presence of one of the defining works of our generation, of that I’m certain.”

    Excited chatter broke out among the now large and still growing crowd.

    As Ed Burns and the art student began making hasty plans to collaborate on a book exploring the hidden meaning and powerful symbolism of the piece, Noah felt moved nearly to tears. It all made perfect sense. How had he not seen it before? So this was what art was all about. He was enraptured by the spectacular sight before him.

    When at last he allowed Becky to lead him away (it was well past lunchtime by then and she was getting hungry), he did so reluctantly, and only on condition that they return later for further viewing of the spectacle. Noah just couldn’t get enough of it.

*

    Out in the parking lot, as the school bus was pulling away, Tyler had finally realized what was troubling him. If not for the incessant heat, it would’ve come to him sooner, but his belated realization brought no relief - it was too late to do anything about it.

    He frantically patted his pockets to make sure, but he already knew they were empty. He’d lost his reading glasses. He was certain he’d had them on the bus that morning. They must have fallen out of his pocket somewhere in the gallery.

    Great, just what he needed. His parents were going to kill him.   

***