I love to poke fun at modern art (a blank canvas is such an easy target!), but I actually appreciate how whimsical and subjective it is. For example, the artist who installed the beaded entranceway had another piece that was just a huge pile of brightly wrapped candy. Andrew and I passed over it with quizzical looks, but on our way out we saw a little boy run up to it, and he was entirely in awe. Part of the thrill of the work was that visitors were allowed to take a piece of candy with them. That boy was the happiest museum-goer I have ever seen, and I was totally humbled.
P.S. This is why I am "sad" standing by the Jackson Pollock. (Andrew and I watched an absurd number of Woody Allen films while we were recovering from our New Year's Eve hangovers.)