The interesting part of this question, to me, is how to define a “work of art”. Is it a painting? Is it a selection of music? Is it a statue, a piece of architecture, a poem, or a novel? Could it, perhaps, be a dance performance, a script, a play being performed, a film or television show? Maybe it’s a mission patch from one of NASA’s Apollo missions, or a logo designed for a company. Maybe it’s even a spraypainted mural on the side of a building.
One possibility for me is The Starry Night, a
painting by Vincent Van Gogh. There’s something about the colors and the swirls
and the darkness juxtaposed against the light that’s always appealed to me. Painted
in 1889 while Van Gogh underwent self-commitment to a mental asylum, it is
considered one of the most recognizable paintings in modern art.
If anyone is ever wondering what to get me for Christmas, a
framed print of either of those would make me very happy.
At the end of the day, though, I’m such a voracious reader
that my “favorite” work of art has to be a story, either something written in
prose or something filmed. Even narrowing it down that far leaves almost too
many possibilities to think about. There are so many short stories, novels,
comic books, television shows and films that have moved me over the years that
I could teach several college courses on the subject and still only scratch the
surface.
Even so, at the end of the day, I think trying to choose a
favorite is an exercise in futility. There are far, far too many works of art
out there that demand our attention, that demand our respect, to ever narrow
the list down to just one or even two or three. If life is an exploration of possibilities,
of ideas, then surely art is one of the tools we use in that endeavor. No
matter how much we expose ourselves to, there’s always more out there, and I take
comfort from that. The exploration will never be over.


