HINT SIX:
Just as it’s easy to be
overwhelmed in the Natural History museum by bunches of bones, and forget that it’s
giving you a peek into the past of Earth that would appear extremely alien, not
taking a minute to think about what’s being looked at can cause the historical
element of the art museum to be missed.
This brings up another
point, why there are Roman reproductions of Greek statues, or paintings of
other paintings collected in museums…
THAT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO
SEE THEM!
For a large portion of
human history, art (or physical reproductions of art) was the only way to
capture the past.
I try not to think too
hard about if a reproduction of a piece of art counts as art, because it makes
my head hurt.
Like so:
Like so:
There are copies of
statues that are in the museum.
There’s a photography
section in the museum.
If I take a really nice picture
of the copy of the statue, could it wind up hung in the same museum? Or does it have to be a picture of the real
statue to count?
OK, quick ibuprofen
break, take them if you got em.
Anyway, American
founders are only from a couple hundred years ago.
There’s a statue of
Alexander the Great.
“Eh, big deal,” say the
masses who live buried in the internet.
Unplug for a moment and
think about this:
Here is a guy who ruled
the “known world” and died over TWENTY THREE HUNDRED years ago, which is just a
bit before the selfie stick was invented, and we KNOW WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE!
COOL!
The same levels of
amazement can be connected to pretty much everything in there. The place is brimming with awesome stuff
created by humans centuries before. It’s still intact, and it still looks neat.
Summary:
SOAK
IN THE HISTORY
HINT SEVEN:
This hint is sort of the
flip side to the previous one. While
it’s nice to have a sense of history or background about what’s being seen, it
is in no way needed to enjoy and gain something from it.
I took an American Art
class in college, because I was impressed by the professor in a freshman course
designed to prove to young engineering students that they don’t know everything
and technology doesn’t solve everything.
Having a background
where I went to this kind of museum is only one of the reasons I didn’t really
need the class…
Or need to spend three
hours a week in rooms full of people who did need it.
Aside- The reason I don’t watch
the Big Bang Theory all that often is
I lived it for five years.
People ask, “Can you
imagine someone like Sheldon?”
And I answer, “Can you
imagine not having your head explode sitting in a classroom full of them?”
Anyway, one of the four
professors tag teaming the rooms full of Sheldons was massively intelligent and
had interesting perspectives on everything he talked about, so I took his art
class.
I placed out of taking
the final by pulling everything he said into my warehouse of useless crap like
mind and regurgitating it back to him.
It represents a scene
from Mount Holyoke in Massachusetts and the artist put himself into the
foreground that is about to be covered by an oncoming storm. It’s one of several of Cole’s works showing
a division between the natural and cultivated world.
My absolute favorite
painting there, over in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Century European section, is The Forest at Winter in
Sunset by Theodore Rousseau painted a little later than the Oxbow. The only reason I know any of this beyond a two hundred year single continent window based on location, is I took
a photo of the title card to document the name.
Yet, without knowing any
details of the artist, location, school or intent, I’ve spent more time looking
into these darkened woods than any other painting in the museum.
And every time I spend
time with it, I notice some new little detail between the shadowed
branches. It was a fantastic moment
getting to share this with my daughter on her second viewing of it.
“HEY! There’s people in there!!!!”
That’s my girl!
Summary:
DETAILED
KNOWLEDGE IS NOT A REQUIREMENT FOR FUN AND FULFILLMENT,
HINT EIGHT
This is one that’s for
the artists instead of the museum patrons, and it requires an explanation longer than my usual random babblings.
As a result of the
previously eluded to Professor Abrash, I gained a greater knowledge and
understanding of Modern Art.
That isn’t to say I
agree with what I understand.
To mess with a classic
phrase:
“I know art and I know
what I like, but often there are no connections between the two.”
In many cases with
abstractions, the idea is to evoke a certain feeling or emotion, sometimes
referenced and sometimes free standing.
Then there are the ones
that use color and form to comment on the medium itself.
Right next to it is
another favorite bundle of self-reference: a painting of a test to see if a cow
recognizes a painting of itself, simultaneously getting the viewer to think
about the fact that neither of them is really a cow, but both flat images.
There was considerable
skill required to execute both of these paintings, whether representational or
not.
There are other modern
art examples which do not.
Again, I get it, but
there are cases where I don’t want it.
In the American Art
class was a girl who was…
in no danger of placing out of the final, to put it nicely.
in no danger of placing out of the final, to put it nicely.
At one point during a
study session she caused me to practice greater restraint than I ever
previously had in my life, upon noticing a reference to a comic strip name
scribbled in the margin of my notes because I wanted to look at the modern art
joke the professor mentioned.
She asked, “Now – Calvin
and Hobbes, what did they paint?”
Never the less she came
up with one of the wisest questions in the entire course.
We were being shown slides of the most modernish of modern art.
One of them was a multiple story high stack of shopping
carts.
The professor stated it
was considered art for the reason that no one ever did that and called it art
before.
Her perfect question was
clear, incisive, and direct.
“SO?”
In the modern art section
of the MET are far more than there should be massively large canvases that
could be copied in a couple of minutes with a step ladder and a paint roller.
I don’t care what type
of emotion is intended to be generated, the incredulity overwhelms me.
Some have titles that
indicate what feeling, or mode of thought the viewer should be steered toward, showing
at least some creative juices flowed along with the paint.
Many however, are
simply, “Untitled.”
This roundabout route
leads to the text of this hint.
Summary:
IF
YOU’RE GOING TO PULL A CON JOB ON AN INTERNATIONALLY RENOWNED MUSEUM, AT LEAST
NAME THE FREAKIN’ THING.
I’m sure I’ll get some
backlash for that because of…
HINT NINE
Yup, time for another
seemingly unrelated story.
I’m big on having the appropriate
shirt for wherever I go, which may explain the singularity generating mass of
them I have in my closet.
There are legends spoken
of my Disney Shirts and the planning associated with them.
I have enough animal
shirts to cover different seasons and moods for Bronx Zoo trips.
And I have fish shirts
that I pass on at the last minute to confuse people in aquariums with the
source of this blog’s title.
For the Art Museum, I
usually alternate between Egyptian motifs, and print shirts that should be labeled
less as “Hawaiian” and more as “chromatic aberrations.”
On a particular visit to
the MET, I had donned one of these crimes against visual nature. As we passed through the modern section at
the end of the day (to make fun of it) I was stunned.
There was an abstract
painting hanging there which, if I stood in front of it, my nearly identifiable
from space shirt would provide perfect camouflage.
Happily the one referenced isn’t there anymore.
Sadly, the shirt isn’t either.
I didn’t act upon this
instinct immediately, due to the person in the way.
He was a bespectacled and
tweedy looking individual standing immobile a few feet away from the painting
for a long period with one hand on his chin, staring deeply into it with a look
of heavy pontification upon his furrowed brow.
Therefore I positioned
myself, standing immobile a few feet
away from the bespectacled, and tweedy looking individual for a long period
with one hand on my chin, staring deeply into him with a look of heavy
pontification upon my furrowed brow.
After a bit, he noticed
me, looked as if he was about to make what he felt was an enlightening
statement about the work…then noticed my shirt, harrumphed grumpily and stormed
off.
Summary:
MODERN
ART ENTHUSIASTS HAVE NO SENSE OF HUMOR
Note, this little Mexican
dude has nothing to do with that last hint, but I like him.
HINT TEN
This one is totally not
my fault.
As one wanders through
the enormous square footage of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, as mentioned in
HINT FIVE, a need to take in more details of a specific piece (not to mention
sore feet) is an excellent reason for the benches placed in the center of many
galleries.
Marble slabs supported
by columns in the Greek and Roman section.
Austere, pewish wooden
constructs in the church like medieval art section.
Colonial style
furnishings in the American Wing.
Etcetera.
Therefore, at the end of
a day filled with miles of walking through the collected cultural history of
humanity, I was pretty well pooped by the time we were making fun of giant
slabs of color in the Modern Wing.
In the center of a room
filled with used drop cloths and oversized Lüscher color test samples was a
knee high plastic rectangle with a shallow indentation in it and a ridge along
one side.
My aching feet dragged
my exhausted form over to it.
I turned and began to
lower my posterior onto the seat in preparation to gaze at one of the more
interesting random patterns of colors on a canvas.
The guard immediately
ran over and yelled at me a great deal.
My daughter loves this
story, and points out that, “Those signs are there for you!” everywhere else in
the museum.
Summary:
DON’T
SIT ON THE ART!
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