Echoing Adele

An artist friend writes a blog about sex in art. The site was/is a reaction to the duality that exits here, as a people, we have no problem walking around the streets in itty bitty swimsuits and body paint; it's okay to have a hornerman/woman, but somehow, we still refuse to acknowledge the sensual side of life. Many works of art have caused national consternation due to their "explicit" subjects. We want the education ministry to ban a literature text because it contains curse words,stand on a street corner and you'll hear worse live.

I love looking at sculpture. The lines, form, the artist's use of material making you want to run your hands over it. It is a lover's caress, an honest admission of admiration for the work whether or not it is the human form.

In the Chicago, you run into huge, towering sculptures by Picasso, Chagall, Miro and Alexander Calder all over the city. They all provoke thought and are all wonders in their own way. In my island, we build monumental sculptural works every year. For several days they are exhibited via competitions and human portrayals. If they are lucky, they tour other countries. Wow you might say, where can I see them now you might ask. They are the costumes built for the King and Queen of Carnival. I marvel at them, and at a country that pays such scant respect to its art that these works are cast aside and forgotten once the music stops playing.

It is a sad indictment that even as lumber and quest after the trappings of "first world" nations, we equate first world with big, glassed in, air conditioned buildings, not realising that out there, its not about the size of the building, but about the attention to design detail. First world is not about having things, it is about how we value our musicians, artists, writers, actors as well as our businessmen. We talk about the arts et al, but do we appreciate their value?

The evidence is does not show this. So what next?