From last month’s brief visit to NYC… I was busy with family and friends, but determined to see some of my “faves” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art if I had time - after all, I consider the old masters friends too!
I threaded my way through the lobby crowds and the Egyptian Wing to the American Wing, where I have fond memories of sitting and sketching on other visits. (Alas, no time for that now!)
There is something so beautiful about watching another human being encounter a work of art. For me it is equivalent to being in church.
Who doesn’t love the Met? The building alone is uplifting to the spirit. And at the end of the day (in this case, literally at the end of the day), the shadows made their own art on the walls.
It was getting late and I didn’t have a lot of time (the museum closed at 8h30). I said a quick hello to Rembrandt, who returned my gaze with his own unflinching, unapologetic one. (Yet humble - there is something undeniably humble about this portrait. I don’t know about you, but it is hard for me look away. He has caught some essence of humanity which speaks across centuries.)
I wanted to stop and look and take pictures of everything! Being in the Met is the ultimate kid-in-a-candy-store experience for me… I want it all!!
I dashed through the upstairs European Painting Galleries and slowed down only for a few paintings…Like this unfinished one by Manet, where you can see his initial brushstrokes on canvas. I made a mental note to share with students. There’s nothing better than seeing how an artist works, because it brings art into the realm of the possible. Anyone can learn to make those first gestural marks. What’s hard is the endurance (and the faith) needed to continue working, to really create something new.
Ah, Matisse! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways….Or just let me stare at your patterns (hey, there’s that wallpaper again - that’s the same one on my Mad Men painting!).
I’m not a big fan of Monet (he’s overplayed, like most of the Impressionists), but I do love looking at the shadows on his haystacks. I actually like his winter scenes better than the famed water lilies, which I find kind of trite (sacrilege! I know!).
And then there is the poor (literally, poverty-stricken) Chaim Soutine, who died young but left us some disturbing and beautiful portraits, such as this one (I am going to guess that Lucian Freud was an admirer of his).
Well this was a complete surprise (below) - I actually stumbled upon it while looking for the Bonnard and Vuillard galleries (they were sadly closed by that time of day). It is a “four-season shawl” from the 19th century, made in France or Scotland. The only way to get a photo was to have that reflection, which I kind of liked, actually.
As usually happens, I got happily lost, and ended up in a rotunda sort of place which didn’t feel like a typical gallery. But wait! I found some Bonnards and Vuillards after all. Hurrah! (Bonnard dinner scene, below)
Vuillard’s mother was a seamstress, and he grew up looking at textiles and patterns. What I like about this painting (below) is the way he has divided up the space (and I’ve used artwork like this to explain “negative space” to students - wherein they actually cut up the image into puzzle pieces and put it back together again).
At the risk of sounding pretentious (or presumptuous?), I’m going to say that Bonnard and Vuillard (along with Matisse) are probably the reason I am a painter at all. Their work speaks to me on so many levels - the colors and compositions, the sliding picture plane, the often blurred or distorted figures, the childlike or whimsical feeling of some of their scenes (below, a landscape by Bonnard).
And more Matisse… Don’t let his tendency toward simplified colors and shapes deceive you - he’s got the figure down pat. Look at those arms!
The museum was closing and it was time to catch a taxi downtown and meet my cousin for dinner…But I wasn’t hungry. I was sated to the core of my being. Long live the Met! Thank you for existing, and thank you wealthy donors and patrons who do something with your wealth other than getting face lifts and riding on private jets! Ars longa, vita brevis!
