For the Love of Art Pt. 05

*****

After all was said and done between us—including his crystal clear warning not to ever snoop through his belongings again—we'd reconvened with the crowd separately. I'd arrived just as the presentations were set to begin. Mr. Ryne had pocketed my underwear, which was just another layer of protection that'd been stripped from me tonight and left me vulnerable and all too aware. But it was the least of my worries at the heart of it.

With the presentations beginning and my mind caught in a net of reflection over all that'd occurred, I questioned if I would make it the remainder of the night without vomiting. Or simply passing out.

Everyone gathered around the first piece, the kaleidoscope animation. The owner, a gangly man somewhere around my age, began going in depth about the science of therapeutic dimensional art. And that was when I closed my eyes for a few moments and tried to tune it all out before I backed out of this thing entirely.

Because not only had Mr. Ryne just confronted me in a way that left me feeling drenched and hung out to dry, but the dilemma of before was becoming more and more apparent as each contestant went on to present their piece. A dilemma that only now showed its severity: Mr. Ryne wanted me to win. Mr. Ryne had also instructed me on this elaborate speech glorifying the idea of canvas drawn concept art and how it should be prevalent today in the age of technology, past vs the present. A withered artform reborn in a new era, thereby exploiting intrigue amongst a new generation and feeding into the grand machine that was art. But as I stood there feeling light headed, observing how the audience and judges reacted to each presentation, I thought for a fleeting second—what if Mr. Ryne was wrong? What if a glorifying speech on why concept art was still useful and in ways superior wasn't what the judges were interested in at all? After all, it was a defensive way to go about a presentation. And hadn't that been what every participant today had done, defended their chosen art venue rather than talk about the entry itself?

Mr. Ryne had said it himself, this crowd wasn't gathered here for a lesson in mediums. They were here for entertainment. And if anything, the audience ranged from mildly intrigued to bored out of their minds as contestant after contestant missed the critical element of showing off your art piece to the world: experience.

Mr. Ryne had it wrong. Most anyone could glance up and see your art, but that wasn't what they wanted. There was no entertainment in that, no creativity and nothing to set you apart from the mass. When we sit to watch a movie, read a book, or listen to a song, we didn't want to experience a formula. We wanted something new. This crowd, I sensed as they shifted and nodded and checked their watches, wanted something more.

It wasn't enough just to see the art.

They wanted to see inside our minds.

A) Present the artwork as practiced.

B) Give the audience something more, something different.