Art can’t be misinterpreted.
Art can be interpreted, and it should be. And some of those interpretations seem to defy all sense of time, space, and logic. And they should.
Art is not math, or physics, or sports. Art is not meant to be quantified or dissected. It is meant to be felt. It is meant to evoke something.
You tell me a painting hung upside down in a museum for years and nobody noticed? I say, great! A new perspective! You say it was only recently discovered that Miles Davis’s album Kind Of Blue was mastered at the wrong speed? Cool! Now people have a choice as to which version they prefer!
I hate (not too strong a word) programs like American Idol, or lists like 100 Greatest Guitarists Of All Time. As I am prone to saying (and writing), art is not a competitive sport. It is not meant to be appreciated by comparing it to other art. Art is meant to be experienced, sometimes in ways that transcend words. And sometimes in ways that transcend comprehension. And that’s OK. No, that’s better than OK. That’s art doing what only art can do.