One of the world’s best museums of modern art is the Tate Modern in the monolithic old Bankside power station on the south bank of London’s River Thames.
Personally I prefer hanging my walls with figurative paintings of recognisable people, places and flowers, but I enjoy going to the Tate Modern for a fresh perspective, good laugh and the occasional thought-provoking head scratch.
One exhibit that achieved all three of those reactions was “The Oak Tree.” I am afraid I can’t remember the artist’s name but the structure of the exhibit remains crystal clear in my memory.
Halfway up the wall, just out of reach of all but the tallest member of the visiting public, was a half-filled glass of water on a small wooden shelf bracketed to the wall. Underneath the shelf was a short interview between the artist and, presumably, an arts journalist. It went something like this:
Journalist: “This is a most interesting exhibit. What do you call it.”
Artist: “I call it The Oak Tree.”
Journalist: “But it looks like a half-filled glass of water on a wooden shelf to me.”
Artist: “Well, you are wrong. It is an oak tree.”
Journalist: “But everyone who sees it says it is not an oak tree, but a half-filled glass of water on a wooden shelf.”
Artist: “They are wrong and I am right.”
Journalist: “But what gives you the right to say that they are wrong and you are right when all the senses tell us that what we are looking at is a half-filled glass of water on a wooden shelf.”
Artist: “Because I am the artist.”
The water, the glass, the shelf and the printed interview was a perfect example of static performance art. I laughed out loud and spent the next 20 minutes dragging strangers over to point out the exhibit. “What do you think?” I asked them.
The vast majority of the strait-lacked Englishmen uttered a dismissive snort: “Ridiculous.”
But not everyone. Some laughed along with me. Some described it as genius. Some said: “He did create it. If he created it he should be able to call if what he wants.”