It's Art, but Do You Like It?

Worms turn; Britons never will be slaves; a London housewife last week spoke her revolted mind on the subject of modern art.

In the stillness of the Victoria and Albert Museum, in a crowd peering at the works of Matisse and Picasso, she clapped sharply for attention, gathered a little crowd about her, and began a speech. These paintings, she said, were: 1) "the product of diseased minds"; 2) "garbage masquerading as art"; 3) a racket imposed on the public. From her hearers, reported PM, came a warm spatter of applause.

Her outburst touched off a barrage of letters to the London Times. Pudgy, pompous Lord Brabazon wrote that he thought he saw a painting of what seemed to be broken iron castings. Matisse had titled it A Recumbent Woman. (Huffed Lord Brabazon, "We shall soon be told that a multiple drill has sex appeal.") Two letter writers thought Picasso's pictures should be kept from children. Another critic was not so worried. He reported overhearing a six-year-old, who had intently studied a swollen, mysterious Picasso abstraction, comment: "Why, there's a hippopotamus in bed."

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