Serrano _

In a forgotten stone cathedral off Michigan Avenue, Felicia attended a lecture sponsored by the Museum of Contemporary Art. She was looking for some insight into art or life – something to take her outside herself for the evening. What she got instead were beautiful, oversized color pictures of bodily fluids, corpses, and old, naked Hungarian women smoking crooked cigarettes. That the lecture was staged in a house of worship was supposed to lend a gravity or reverence to the sensational subject matter. Instead, the setting merely added insult to everything the usual Sunday morning faithful believed in. But, Felicia figured, that was the point all along.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: