wrestling as art

I guess I should get around to posting something about this past weekend. Last Wednesday night, in my post-prelims glory (and hence the beginning of my weekend), I went to the SFMOMA to watch Mexican professional wrestling. SFMOMA and wrestling? Not two things you might normally associate with each other (though that being said, I have friends who've been to raves there more than once). Regardless, it was a blast. The wrestling was incredibly acrobatic, the wrestlers--despite (or because of?) their masks--were quite charismatic, and the ring floor was designed for maximizing the volume of all cracks, bangs, and smashes. I'd love to have a floor like that in my living room (much to the dismay of the inlaw apartment beneath us).

Here's part of the placard they were handing out at the match:

Afterwards, a friend and I were wondering why the SFMOMA hosted the event. Some hypotheses were: (1) to take an important cultural phenomenon and place it in a new context, highlighting it's cultural and theatric value, (2) MOMA is trying to popularize itself, or, my favorite, (3) Mexican wrestling is just damn cool. Who could turn it down? But what do I know of art...