1. This is an interpretation of the list of works hanging in a plastic container-thing at Wei Wei’s exhibit at the Hirshhorn.
Great indomitable Chinese artist Wei Wei is exhibiting down there at the Hirshhorn modern art museum or gallery or what have you in Washington, D.C., USA. Last week, I went down there for the second time to see Mr. Wei’s exhibit and decided I could be Wei Wei: I could make curious art too.
I did a project inspired by Mr. Wei. I took photographs of photographs he is exhibiting at the Hirshh. This is one of them.
BTW, Wei has one piece made of about 47 3-foot-high urns. They’re all laid out strategically and brilliantly artistically and ingeniously and indiginously like only old Wei Wei could do himself, and the urns are up on a large 1-foot-high stage. The Hirshh has no barriers or rails around the stage of immortal urns, but maybe they should.
I was taking some photographs on the wall in the same room as the urns stage, about 10 feet away. I backed up to get a more perfect photograph, tripped over the stage, almost knocking and smashing about 47 of Wei’s priceless urns into tragic bits and pieces. Fortune had it that I tripped over a corner of the stage, so when I fell on my artistic butt, I missed the urns.
European police car sirens went off. Hirshhorn guards blew whistles and flashed lights. They pulled out Billy Clubs. They surrounded me, all military like in their minimalist black-and-white uniforms, and funny pointed hats. They dragged me out of the museum or gallery or what have you of high art and tossed me next to a dumpster painted by Jasper Johns near a group of dark immortal Henry Moore sculptures in a rare patch of D.C. grass. They tazed me real good, but I didn’t scream, and I didn’t complain. An artist must suffer for his work.