The most recognizable piece of American art is American Gothic:

In today's NRO, John Miller pens an article which looks at a new book which explores the history and meaning behind the famous painting. I'm always amazed at the hidden meanings that are found behind the brush strokes on canvas:

It turns out that American Gothic can mean just about anything to anybody. My favorite post-9/11 political cartoon is an arresting likeness of American Gothic: The couple in the picture are wearing “I [heart] NY” t-shirts. It appeared in The New Yorker about a month after the destruction of the World Trade Center. The message was clear: United we stand.

Yet there was a time when American Gothic was not seen as a celebration of patriotism or the heartland. In fact, when it first went on display, many people considered it a savage parody of farm-country yahoos: “It lampooned American rural or small-town life, its rigidity and provincialism, its repressed and oppressive people, pinched, puritanical Bible-thumpers, fundamentalists ... Ku Kluxers perhaps, powerful atavisms in a society that the census had proclaimed predominantly urban in 1920.”

This is the interpretation that Biel seems to prefer, albeit with the postmodern flourishes of a 21st-century Harvard man. He writes of how the Reagan presidency “made patriotic kitsch the official culture of the United States in the 1980s” and dutifully notes that “patriarchy remains visibly intact in the painting,” because the man stands slightly in front of the woman. (We might say that “patriarchy kitsch” has become the official culture of the American academy.)

Then there’s this clunker of a passage: “American Gothic personifies the nation: gives it white faces, locates it in the ‘middle’ both geographically and socioeconomically, establishes that middle as the national identity (‘identity’ literally means ‘sameness’), situates, by implication, other faces and places on the margins or outside.”

Oh dear. A picture of a man and a woman in small-town Iowa, and all the Harvard guy can think about is that there aren’t black or brown faces in it.

Art is an interesting substance because its form extends beyond the medium (the clay, the canvas, the stage) and takes its final shape in the thoughts and emotions of the viewer. To me this means that each person must serve as their own art critic, for it is within the not-so-blank slate of one's own heart that each masterpiece is viewed from.

Which means I can be comfortable with the art I like. I enjoy the melodies of Mozart and the dissonance of Prokofiev. I also love the majestic themes of Copeland and the way Gershwin makes my mind dance. I love the color and scenery of Monet but find that Van Gough gives me a headache. I must also confess that I thoroughly enjoy the work of the much reviled Kincade; I love the peace and security they convey.

In my opinion, there is only one art critic worth listening to...yourself.