South Boston, VA and Art...in general?

This past weekend I took a short trip to South Boston, VA. While we were there we really wanted to go to the Bob Cage Sculpture garden and see the goats. We just love goats. My husband and I love goats so much that we went to a small local goat farm and stayed the night after our wedding. That farm had all kinds of goats, even fainting goats. It also had sheep dogs!

While we were in South Boston we got our wish. Sculptures by Bob Cage were all over town and we even met some of his family. We'd heard that he was over 90 years old, still a tennis champ and that he was also a champion tobacco auctioneer. We even got to see some of his paintings at the restaurant. Still we were not fully prepared for what was waiting for us at the sculpture garden that surrounds his home.

When we arrived we were sad to see that a fence ran around the property but it makes sense. You don't want the goats running off into the road...which is precisely what they would do. When we came out they mostly ignored us until someone clapped and they all came running up. They were adorable! They brought with them some cutie-pie donkeys who had a good time rolling around on the ground like puppies. We had fun watching the goats and donkeys interact and took lots of pictures of them. From outside of the fence the art was impressive just because the field had so many colors and textures. Your eye was drawn to all of them and it was surreal to see these things with goats climbing all over them.

But then, while we were standing there, something amazing happened. A car pulled up and an elderly man with wild hair stepped out and slowly walked over to the gate. He opened the gate, let himself in and when the goats ran over to him we realized that we were standing in front of the man himself, Bob Cage. After greeting the goats he walked over to us and as he neared I could see his tennis championship shirt for confirmation. No introductions were exchanged. None were needed. My husband introduced us and we all complimented his work that we'd seen all over town. Bob told us that this work was his passion. He waved us over to the gate and let us in to wander the field and see everything up close. He showed us how to secure the gate, invited us back to feed the goats and watch them cross the bridge he built for them, and then he strolled back down the lane to his house. I couldn't resist snapping a picture of his retreating form. I felt like I needed to capture the moment.
Once we were in the field things changed. We were stunned by the incredible sculptures and got to work snapping pictures of them before the sun went down. On the outside of the fence it was too much to process, but on the inside you could walk up to one and hold it in your view and truly enjoy it. All of us had favorites and it was easy to see how different sculptures could mean different things to people. They were very personal and lovely.

This one is made out of urinals.

This visit got me thinking about something that often troubles me. When is something "art"? What makes a picture go from just a photo to something worthy of a gallery? Is it content or execution? And why is that pile of urinals a provocative sculpture? Who decides these things? Who is in charge here?

Personally, at least in the case of the Bob Cage sculptures, art is a feeling. We felt a change when we walked in from the outside of the fence to look at his work. We forgot about the goats and felt excited about the structures inside. Some of them triggered an emotional response but all of them were easy to appreciate.

I once heard that if you ask a room full of kindergartners who among them is an artist that they will all raise their hands. Imagine posing that question to a group of people at your work. Maybe a few people would have the courage to raise their hands and the others would probably look at them critically. "Jenny in accounting? What a laugh! She calls those cross stitched Kleenex covers art? Ridiculous." I think that we all need to move away from this kind of thinking. Creativity is nothing to be ashamed of.

What do you think?