When I was young I enjoyed reading the book From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by the author E. L. Konigsburg. I haven't read it for years but it is about two children who spend some time living in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I have always loved museums of any type, but I haven't ever wanted to live in one. That is until I went to the Louvre in March of 2010. I could happily live in the Louvre.
I normally prefer contemporary art over the old masters. But seeing the heavy hitters of the art world in person is a lot different than looking at slides in an art history class. There is a reason why the artwork in the Louvre has been kept around for centuries. It is truly that good.
My friend, E., and I spent several hours weaving our way through halls of marble statuary and room upon room of paintings stacked from floor to ceiling. It would take days to see all the artwork. My favorite pieces weren't the ones that most people flock here to see. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed seeing the Mona Lisa in person. But I didn't get teary eyed over seeing her like I did when I saw a pair of angels painted by Fra Angelico.
Fra Angelico is not on my top ten list of favorite artists. But seeing these two angels made me sentimental and grateful at the same moment. I got misty-eyed thinking about the years I sat in art history classes as an undergrad at Clarion University, analyzing, memorizing, and admiring pictures of work done by artists who lived hundreds of years ago. I saw so much of their work and thought so much about their styles, their intentions, the impact they had on later generations of art makers, that these artists became friends. Seeing the Fra Angelico angels was like spotting old college buddies that I hadn't seen in years. I wanted to linger with them, to sit down with a cup of tea and catch up on all the years that we had been apart.
I wouldn't want to live in the Louvre for the excitement of running away like the children in The Mixed-up Files. Rather, I would like to be given the time to catch up with the artists who made me fall in love with art in the first place. To have a whole day to study with Michelangelo in person rather than from a book, to spend a week observing how Delacroix tells complex stories with paint, to sit and stare at Leonardo's smoky sfumato would be so satisfying to me. A day's visit was not long enough for me.
Paintings remind me of what it's like to see famous people. They make you silly, happy, sad, angry, shy. I love seeing works I studied in those Art History classes. It really makes me emotional too. Sometimes I regret not studying harder for those tests. It's not enough to recall title, date, artist, and medium. But when you meets those works of art , at last you have an experience with the piece and the ARTIST. Now you can recall how the artist handled the paint. Remembering the brushstrokes remembering the true brights or the deep darks, paying attention to expressions and contrasts. And then you realize, you're glad you know those trivial details, but at last you know the artist and can say "Nice to finally meet you".
ReplyDeleteI love "From the Mixed-Up Files.." I did a report on that for Children's Literature in college.
ReplyDeleteThe Louvre sounds pretty amazing!