.There's a warning at the entrance to the Yoko Ono show: some might find this inappropriate. I scanned the show for offenses. There was the parade of hairy and hairless butts, a few penis-related panels of a comic hung high on a wall. And then there was the Cut Piece, which is more explicit in concept than imagery, except for the sight of Yoko in her big 60's bra.
.The second time I saw that sign, I pointed it out to my kids. I took them to the show because I thought they'd like it, but also because I thought it was important. I wanted them to see that art could be confusing. I wanted them to understand that Yoko is a human being, not a verb that means to destroy the beloved with your obscure female power.
.They took it in, variably intrigued and unconcerned. My son stood in front a screen full of naked woman, quietly tolerating a dance of flies. My daughter watched Cut Piece twice, trying to understand it, eventually walking away, satisfied that sometimes understanding is not the point.