Baseball 1965

Editor: This is "Baseball," painted by Charles Garabedian in 1965, using oil on, I think, canvas. What strikes me is the flattened perspective, and this sort of innocent style – like folk art almost – even though the perspective's actually quite complex, or *trying* to be. It’s unsettlingly cute. What’s your take? Curator: Oh, cute with a side of existential dread, perhaps! It reminds me a little bit of when I used to watch games with my grandpa; all that endless, dreamy waiting punctuated by bursts of frantic activity. The painting, to me, has that feeling; the almost aggressively green field just sitting there… brooding, practically. Editor: Brooding baseball! Curator: Right? And look at those figures in the stands. They're almost nightmarish in their detail, crammed in, faces indistinct. Does it feel like he's saying something about spectatorship and the alienation even in a crowd? Or, simpler than that, just depicting an unsettlingly crowded baseball game! Editor: Definitely unsettling! There's something childlike in the rendering, but also…disturbing. The lack of distinct facial features on the fans makes me think about consumerism, maybe the dehumanization of the masses... Curator: Mmm, interesting point. It also speaks, perhaps, to the role baseball—or *any* kind of major spectacle, let’s be real—plays in a culture. Does it unify or does it, paradoxically, further isolate us within that collective experience? Are we even *watching* or just blindly consuming? Editor: Heavy thoughts for a sunny day at the ballpark! I guess I see the piece a little differently now...less about a simple game, more about the complex relationship between the individual and the crowd. Curator: And for me, a reminder that art isn't just about pretty pictures; it's about those thorny questions that keep us up at night, played out on a field of dreams… or maybe, anxieties.