People gripe about funding for the arts. It’s all touchy-feely, hippie crap, am I right? And by that I mean, you think money spent on the arts is like tossing cash into the crapper, for as much good as it offers the world at large. Well, it’s harder for me to convince you of the fallacy of that argument when a recent city-wide all night arts festival offered the following “pieces”: “An artist/poet silently wanders the financial district completely covered in Velcro-like hooked burdock seedpods accompanied by two assistants and a docent.” “Two driverless luxury sedans circle each other in an endless figure eight, teetering on the verge of collision but never quite doing so.” “Participants spin a wheel of fortune to select questions that are put to a 12-foot tall child oracle who offers answers privately over headphones. These relatively benign proceedings are made menacing by the vengeful spirit of an even larger inflatable hanging spider exploring...
... a quirky look at day-to-day life ...