the emperor's new clothes -new artist version

07/08/2009

 Once upon our time
 In the year 2009
 There lived an emperor
 Who was bored
 
 He woke up one morning
 With a briliant idea
 He wanted to  be an artist
 The greatest in the world
 
 He would creat art
 As never seen before
 It would be admired
 By all in his empire
 
 He would stand naked
 For all  to see
 With a big red spot
  Painted on his chest
 
 He summoned the state curator
 And his p.r. deparment
 They prepared the exhibition
 In the state's museum
 
 All the ministers came
 To the royal opening
 And all the rich and oligarchs
 And intelectuals too
 
They passed empty rooms
 Painted in white
 And came drink in hand
 Upon the emperors work of art
 
 There stood the masterpiece
 Naked as the day he was born
 Red spot in space
 Was the name of the great work
  
  What genius what courage
   Cried the crowd
   A turning point in art  history
   Said the famous art critic
  
  Suddenly from the crowd
  a young voice was heard
  It is only a naked emperor
  he cried for all to hear
 
 Not a work of art
 No great masterpiece
 Just a silly emperor
 With no clothes on
 
 
  Hush fell on the place
  No one dared to breath
  All eyes turned to see
  Who  dared so to speak
 
  It was a young boy
  Who stood before them
  The one from the original story
  sure to be famous again
 
  But then the curator spoke
  As angry as can be
  It is you who cannot see
  You stupid old fashioned child
 
  This is a new world
   A post modern one
   everything goes today
   Just say it is art and  it will be
 
  Then the critic spoke
  So serious and composed
  This is liberated art
  existential bablatism at its best
 
  And all the people there
  Looked with pity on the kid
  Go home you foolish boy
  Dont ever disturb us again
 
 Away went the young child
 Not wanted any more
 To an art school he enrolled 
  An artist he would be
 
Today he is a great artist
The creator of many empty works
 Known the world over
 As the first in bulshitism
 
 Was it only a fairy tale
 Or were we different once
 Has the dam broken down
 And the flood has come
 
 Could there once have been
 An exhibition about void
 Eight empty rooms
  A retrospective of empty exhibitions
 
 And for objectivity's sake
 Could a self taught artist like me
 be part of the art world
 With the rules that used to be
 
I am sending this to blogspace
Another world without boundaries
Could it be
That the child will point on me?
 
 

comments

Wonderful story. Enjoy your paintings too. They shimmer. I spent 1 1/2 years in Norway. It, too, is another world. You have inspired me to want to visit Iceland. charlotte

add a comment

Please type the number exactly as it appears