Drip, Drip, Drip

Despite a college semester in Florence, Italy, I am not terribly knowledgeable about art. 

But I “discovered” Jackson Pollock watching the outstanding 2000 biopic “Pollock,” and have been kind of obsessed with his drip paintings ever since (not that his paintings can be found in the Renaissance galleries I frequented in college).

The Museum of Modern Art in NYC just opened a 58-piece exhibition of Pollock’s works, and my husband accepted an invitation for a Saturday morning museum date.  Our visits to MoMA are generally on their super-crowded “Free Friday Nights,” but this called for a visit with a bit more elbow room (even if it meant forking over $25 each). 

The texture of Pollock’s drip paintings (layering paint, nails, cigarettes, keys and other detritus) fascinates and mesmerizes me.  These paintings call out to be touched, as my seven-year-old niece demonstrated a few years ago when viewing a Pollock at MoMA.  Fortunately, her mom grabbed her tiny hands just before they landed on the (priceless) painting.

A few of my favorites:

"One: Number 31, 1950"

"One: Number 31, 1950"

This painting spans an entire wall.  At 8'10" by 17'5," it's approximately the size of my first New York City apartment.

Detail from "Full Fathom Five"

Detail from "Full Fathom Five"

"White Light"

"White Light"