The next time a friend annoyingly discredits art with the typical, “I can do that!” brush-off, you can thank Robert Rauschenberg. The “father of found art,” as he is known, Rauschenberg finds 67 works on display at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in a special exhibit lasting until April 2nd.

Rauschenberg’s works in this Combines series draw from a number of influences—Rauschenberg was a painter, sculptor, and graphic artist, and he incorporates these three media (and more) in his work. Despite claiming to have been trained to ignore the teachings of his instructor at the legendary Black Mountain College, Bauhaus figure Josef Albers, you can see distinct elements of the unique Bauhaus method of art construction in Rauschenberg’s work. Also evident are traces of Abstract Expressionism, mixed media, Cubism, and Neo-Dada.

Upon immediate entry into the exhibit, these works are striking and grandiose. Even today, where artists have taken cues from people like Rauschenberg and attempted to out-abstract Abstract art, these Combine paintings are just odd. Colors bleed into and clash with one another, found objects jut from the canvas in distinctly un-painterly fashion, each piece stares as much at you as you it. A mirror adorns one piece, notifying you that whatever you see in the work, you may also see in yourself.

Rauschenberg was the first to realize that art could be made out of anything and everything. In the ‘50s, when most of these pieces were created, the technique was radical. One painter, upon seeing the Combines at their inception, reportedly stated, “If this is Modern Art, then I quit!” It’s an attitude that is common now upon people viewing abstract art, and to be honest, a lot of artists have taken advantage of the work of people like Rauschenberg by lazily throwing together work in the name of “abstract.” But if you’re not seeing anything in these particular works, perhaps you should “break your eye open.”

“Canyon,” perhaps the most menacing of the pieces, features juxtaposing objects. At the bottom of the canvas, a large eagle juts forward as if perched to attack. Offsetting this is a pillow dangling from a string tied to the painting. The pillow represents the comfort of sleep, while the bird remains in the conscious, warning you to sleep with one eye open. Elsewhere, “Pilgrim” is wistful and pretty—colors of the sky blend harmoniously behind a painted wooden chair. You can see noteworthy artists like Stanley Donwood staring at “Pilgrim” and using its style to form the foundation of his own work.