I've seen a few Pollock's in person. To me they looked like a painter's drop cloth.
I saw a print of one in a magazine and as prints sometimes do, they distort the colors and if you looked hard enough you could see a giant S E X painted and then more paint was splattered over it so it wasn't obvious. We've seen the same in one of my wife's textbooks and in better colors if you didn't see it in the false colors you wouldn't notice it in the real colors.
My wife is a college schooled artist, and when we travel, we always go to the art museums. I liked the Prado in Madrid, Rijksmuseum and Van Gogh in Amsterdam, quite a few in the USA and the UK, Dali in St Petersburg (FL), Mucha and National in Prague, Ufuzzi and Pita in Italy, the Vatican museum, and both big and small museums quite a few other countries. Sometimes gems are found in small museums with one or two very impressive and famous or not pieces. In the Art Museum of Chicago we were both memorized by a not-so-famous artist's depiction of a girl listening to a wren. I can still see it in my brain. I haven't been to the Louvre yet but when I get to Paris, it'll be on the list for a few days.
Having an artist with me has taught me how to appreciate some of what makes a painting look like it does. I in turn taught her a lot about music theory. We've grown together.
Defining what is art is very subjective and with the visual arts, especially the more abstract forms, the gatekeepers define what is art, and often that is based on who you know. Do a dozen Campell's soup cans belong in the same league as a Singer-Seargant, DaVinci, Klimt, or a Rembrandt?
What I think is art or not is defined by my personal taste. I am not the arbiter of fine art and don't pretend to be. I do better with music.
There are some things my wife loves that just strike me as OK, but then I don't know what goes into them like she does - plus we have a lot of shared tastes but a little that we don't share. She thinks Pollock is BS as well.
I saw an interesting documentary and I'll summarize.
A woman bought a painting in a yard sale, because she thought it was the most ugly painting she ever saw.
She gave it to a friend as a gag gift. The friend's friend suggested that it might be a Pollock.
She had it evaluated by museums and critics all over the country who said that it couldn't be a Pollock because it didn't have his touch, aura or a dozen other features according to the person. Some of these were famous art museum curators from places like The Met.
Dejected she decided to take it out of the frame and there were fingerprints in the back matching the colors of the painting. So she had that evaluated and sure enough, they were Pollock's fingerprints in the same paint as the painting.
Suddenly the same art critics were extolling the virtues of the same painting and she sold it for a couple of million dollars.
Before it was verified, it was dirt, as soon as it was verified it was gold. Same painting. Art, especially abstract is subjective, and sometimes the name is more important than the art itself.
Now music I can do better. I know that Dvorak's 9th symphony is the greatest piece of music ever written on American soil.
Insights and incites by Notes