attributed to jackon pollock

Last night I went to the opening reception of the art exhibit that has recently arrived at APU, the little Christian school I attend. Apparently a man named Erich Neumeth had a large collection of paintings that are "attributed" to Jackson Pollock. The problem is, they aren't signed by Pollock. People have copied Pollock's distinct style many times in the past, and now our dear little school may have stolen and/or forged art tumbling into their lap. The experts who have looked at the stuff say it's real. I think the stuff is pretty cool. I mean look at it. Shoot, if I could make art like that, I'd be a pretty happy camper. So anyways, it's a big deal at our school. They've been promoting it since the beginning of the semester. There was a story about it in the LA Times. That's a big deal for us. And I have a sneaky suspicion that kind of thing is precisely why APU wants the stuff here, even though they are taking a big risk making money from it.

It is a big risk. Fellows from the Getty have been arrested for this kind of thing. Selling art that's fake, or taking money from stolen art; who knows what they're going to actually do with it. All I know is that John Wallace is spouting all kinds of rhetoric about "God-honoring excellence," which makes everything okay. Our school has this ridiculous motto: "God First." No one really knows what it means, but everyone figures out a way to use it as justification to do whatever they want. In this case, the art is inherently good because it's excellent art, and excellence inherently honors God, and therefore, we're honoring God by making a crap load of money off of this excellent art. Also, we were in the LA Times. All kinds of people are paying attention to us. If that's not evangelism, I don't know what it.

So last night, we all got fancied up (well I didn't get as fancied up as you're supposed to for an art reception, because as much as I honestly like art, I've never been to this kind of thing, and I didn't get the memo. The rich kids who go to our school probably have a like a secret code for knowing what kind of events are the sort that you get dressed up for. All the prestigious old people who were there were dressed up too. I don't mind not being in on the secret code.) Nearly a dozen campus safety guards graced all the entrances and exits and corners in between. I'm sure it's a good idea, but I'm just a kid and they make me laugh.

There was a lovely jazz ensemble playing background music. I like jazz music, really I do. It's the kind of thing that rich people like because it reminds them that whatever they are doing is rich and important and sophisticated and they can afford to take the time to worry about nothing other than the soothing and soaring melodies. And the rest of us like because it makes us feel exactly the same way. They even had little tables with richly colored opalescent tablecloths and candles to sit at and just marinate in the sophistication of miniature mousse tarts and art attributed to a dead man.

After eating way to many little mini tarts, which are another ridiculous but fabulous invention of the rich, and waiting in line, we finally got to see the art. It's like I said earlier, I like art. I really like Jackson Pollock's stuff. It was groundbreaking and important. It's exciting and expressive. So I got the privilege of getting to see some really beautiful art, without any of the responsibilities of worrying about it being fake. I'm happy.