By Mark David Blum, Esq.
If you are going to take a schmear of butter and twist it into a nursery rhyme, at least get it all. “Hey Diddle Diddle, the Cat and the Fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such a sport and the dish ran away with the spoon.
The pat of butter passed off as this year’s Sculpture (a threepeet, btw) fails the most basic intention of any piece of art. You should be “moved”. Art creates some kind of emotion. If the response is “falling asleep” then perhaps it is not art. The only possible movement I saw in the Butter Sculpture was it eventually sliding down a giant piece of toast.
First of all, learn your lines. A moon, a cow, a spoon, a dish, and a little dog (which I learned was “boy” but there is my age showing again). Whatever was the artist’s intentions, he forgot the damn cat and the fiddle. I guess while the rest of us did homework, the artist was fiddling and diddling about.
Originally I was told the sculpture was going to appear pornographic in nature. It was something about a cow fucking the moon while the spoon, dish, and doggie watched. With great anticipation, I looked forward to seeing the display.
Instead what I saw was a slab of butter hastily thrown together for the Fair. Not a moment of thought was invested in creativity or theme. Instead of a cow “doing” the moon, I saw a cow running the hurdles. Maybe I have spent too much time watching the Olympics but my eyes showed what looked like a cow hurdling with the grace of the S.U. backfield.
The spoon and dish managed to offend me. Like any cheerleaders, they all face outward. But their faces … their faces seem to be an after thought. Quickly drawn, with no detail, and as was famously said, “smiling faces tell lies”. I am offended moreso that the artist would need to throw in a last minute happy face makes these two structures comical and amateurish.
Unfortunately, this is New York and what New York or the Fair or Agriculture and Markets has to do with moonshots or eloping silverware.
Getting down to the cream, the Butter Sculpture this year has no flavor and deserves a moon of its own. Just turn around, drop your pants, and ….
