This is where we get off the art bus. DiVine, the anthropomorphic grapevine that stops and pops for gawkers at the Opryland Hotel, strikes us less as art and more as the product of some conventioneer’s misreading the lesson of the Garden of Eden/be fruitful and multiply portion of his free Gideon Bible and then deciding to screw the shrubbery. And yet to see the awed expressions and blinding flashbulbs in the Delta last Sunday, you’d think folks were getting a private showing of George Balanchine himself doing the Sigmund the Sea Monster ballet. If you go, stay for the grand finale when DiVine pays tribute to the John Waters company member of the same name by cleaning up after a hotel guest’s dog. They didn’t see that coming, we assure you.