This woman's name is Susan Burns, and she feels compelled to destroy artwork!
She went to the National Gallery of Art in DC to attack a painting by Paul Gauguin. The painting, of which most Americans have a lithograph in their beach houses, is called "Two Tahitian Women." Gauguin painted it in 1899. One of the women has both of her breasts exposed; the other, modestly, has covered 1/2 of her bosom. They are walking around with fruits and flowers.
Ms Burns, who is 53,said that the painting is 'very homosexual. I was trying to remove it. I think it should be burned ... I am from the American CIA and I have a radio in my head. I am going to kill you.'
So she ankles up to the picture and pounds it with her fists, apparently complying with the wishes of the CIA as relayed to the radio in her head.
The assault on the work of art was thwarted when Burns was reportedly tackled by another gallery-goer, a social worker from the Bronx. "Being tackled by a social worker" is almost as embarrassing as "being told that Kathy Griffin is funnier than you."
But the people at the museum had wisely covered the painting anyway, with that same clear plastic that wise homeowners use to protect their sofas and recliners from spilled drinks, cheese dips and throw-up. The art world needs to be vigilant because time after time we see people seeking to deface great pictures.
Here's my idea: take a picture of the picture and hang that on the wall! In fact, print a couple dozen of them and staple them together in a huge pad. Then when one disgruntled patron rips one down, the next copy will be there for someone to throw Yoo-Hoo on, and then the process can be repeated time and again.
And then, all we have to do is go to the Art Department at any high school and get some kids wearing Skinny Jeans with 127 chains and zippers, long woolen overcoats, knit stocking caps and Converse All-Stars and pay them to guard our most beloved art treasures. And here they are:
Here is the classic "Wide-Eyed Kid with Stickful of Onions." This one always reminds me of Linda Ronstadt coming home from the grocery store. The artist's use of slightly gray overtones in this child's hair lends an ironic aging process, for what typifies American youth any better than the image of a kid carrying home a stickful of onions?
We can only assume that the dogs we see at right are having their standard Friday night game. Looks like the one at front left is sliding down on his seat a little bit. Is he intoxicated? Does he have a hole card hidden down below the felt tabletop?
This picture clearly represents the inherent qualities of goodness in the world, as the contestants play on into the night, buoyed by their canine companionship and their dogged bonhomie. Also, that dogs are capable of shuffling cards.
This is the sort of art that is made to go well with cork. It really has to, because these cornball newspaper daily features were scissored out of newspapers all across the country during the 70s more often than fondue recipes and pictures of John Travolta strutting through Brooklyn, a gallon of Kem-Tone in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. Everyone saw their lover in this strip at least once a week and cut it out to show the people at work or the refrigerator repairman at home.
As the old expression goes, I don't know anything about what I like; I just know about art.