I don’t understand Jackson Pollock’s works. My impressions are that his pieces are simply collections of blobs and splatters. They may be some form of expression, but I don’t see it…
but then I take a moment to really look at his work. I look at the colors and the patterns and ask myself what could they be saying? Is his soul in such inner turmoil that he has to express himself in random splashes of color? Or is there a method to his madness?
I figure that famous people started talking about their interests in his paintings or they were exhibited at a famous collection or gallery, igniting his huge success. At such a large size, I think I would be overwhelmed with a piece of art larger than I am, and I wonder what kind of time commitment Pollock puts into his works.
Sullivan’s reaction is a very positive one. Her interpretation of his work is of praise, he is able to distill the essence of art into minimal parts. The simplicity of Pollock’s work enables it to be interpreted as anything by anyone, as explained through her many metaphors such as: “maze” “linoleum” “mural”. Yet his work begs many questions, while giving no answers.