It ain’t easy being important, as Clyfford Still taught me the other day.
On that particular afternoon, I found myself in the Queen City, a fancy nickname for the Rust Belt town of Buffalo.
The primary purpose of the visit was for a dance competition, and, no, not because I’m sophisticated—because I’m a father.
And at this point in my dance dad progression, I don’t have to pretend I care about watching the other competitors anymore.
I’m there to prove to the world—aka my family—how great of a father I am.
But in between events, now that’s where things get interesting.
That’s when I do pretend to be something—cultured.
In 2025, stranded alone at a dance workshop in Sandusky, Ohio, I ventured to nearby Toledo and its art museum, even taking this picture to prove it.
So to keep tradition alive, on April 18, 2026, I made the bold move to visit the Buffalo AKG Art Museum.
That museum, as you know, has one of the most significant collections of modern and contemporary art in the world.
I even mentioned that here.
In full disclosure, I didn’t really know that—I took the line from another book, 100 Things To Do in Buffalo Before You Die (giving full credit, of course).
Upon arrival to the gallery, I wondered if the one in Toledo was a better product—and by better, I mean cheaper. While parking and admission in the Glass City were free, Buffalo set me back $34—$12 to ditch the car and $22 to enter.
I’ll just skip the café, I thought.
Once inside, I started the aimless stroll, feigning interest and, more importantly, expertise. To play the part, I had abandoned the sweatshirt in favor of a collar, throwing in the occasional head nod sprinkled with a few hmm‘s.
I saw a couple names I recognized—guys like Jackson Pollock and Andy Warhol.
But there was one room that stood out because, well, it seemed like the museum wanted it to stand out.
The space was dedicated to the work of one Clyfford Still.
And that left me with a burning question:
Who the heck is Clyfford Still?!
I read the placard quickly, knowing those are typically written to violate all rules of writing I’ve learned—you know, use a lot of words that no one understands and find the most circuitous route to saying nothing.
Then I turned to my companion, AI.
Clyfford Still (1904-1980) was a leading American Abstract Expressionist painter.
Not exactly knowing what that meant, I discovered some other key figures in the movement:
- Jackson Pollock (see above)
- Mark Rothko (the name reminded me of the guy who plays the Hulk)
- Willem de Kooning (the name seemed familiar, but I might have been confusing it with Kaiser Wilhelm II)
Still was apparently a bit grumpy, rejecting commercial art markets in favor of reclusion, ensuring that people like me would have to resort to AI to figure out who he was.
The dude loved jagged shapes, the kind in this picture I nabbed (no flash obviously).
And for some reason, he took to the people of Buffalo—their museum would boast the largest collection of his work until the 2011 opening of the Clyfford Still Museum in Denver.
To fund that project in the Mile High City, Still’s estate sold a few paintings, with one going for $61.7 million!
As I made my way back to the dance competition, I noted smugly that thanks to Clyfford Still, I had become officially important.
