My dad hated rock music. He tolerated it, but mostly he scoffed at it, even the Beatles. We were watching the Lawrence Welk Show one evening, one of his favorites, and the orchestra began to play an instrumental arrangement of “Hey Jude.” When it finished, he said, ”Look, that’s beautiful, why don’t you like that music.” My dad and Mr. Welk grew up in the same era, in the same part of the country and of the same German ancestry. They spoke the same musical language.

Pablo Picasso was severely criticized in his time as being schizophrenic and satanic. Carl Jung described Picasso’s art as evil, and it didn’t belong in galleries.

So how can I stay open to art I don’t understand, learn a new language of appreciation, a new shade of aesthetic. I don’t want to miss out on the next Picasso or Beatles.