Number 10, that is. It was displayed flat, behind a glass case; I got as close as I could without having my nose touch the case, leaving breath-marks in the shape of cytokinesis. I Googled the painting but it can't compare to seeing it in person, regardless of feelings toward the artist or abstract paintings.
In another exhibit in this art museum I caught three painting-gazers unintentionally recreating this scene from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (at 0:57):
Just picture three sixty-year-olds, two women and one man, instead of the hookey-playing teenage boy, his best friend and his girlfriend. They were looking at this (can't find a small picture to put here). I've yet to see a Seurat in person, but I did see some Monet and have a bit of a Cameron Frye moment with a Monet landscape.
Don't get me wrong, I love going to museums and even like to visit them by myself sometimes; I like to do so in order to wander from exhibit to exhibit at my own pace and linger without worrying that I've lost my companion/party. But what I enjoy almost as much as the artwork is people-watching at these places. I jotted down notes on some of the people who caught my eye:
- a father and daughter, both wearing blue argyle sweaters and blue jeans of the same hue. I know that siblings and friends tend to dress similarly, but I've never seen a parent and child of opposite genders dress as identically as this pair.
- a college-aged couple, who in any other circumstance would be unremarkable: the She wore a long sweater, black leggings, cognac-colored boots and a cloth headband that matched her dark ponytailed-hair; the He wearing a long-sleeved crew neck shirt with faded blue jeans and worn sneakers. Most of the couples were older people, empty-nest aged men and women who thoughtfully considered each piece before moving on. This pair ambled into a small exhibit and ambled out a minute later, clearly unimpressed and unmoved by the ancient artifacts.
- a man who looked to be about sixty-five years old; very tall, perhaps 6'6"; large Liam Neeson-esque nose and striking, dignified profile; wore a brown leather jacket and black pants and shoes. He walked like an elephant, but not as slowly and a bit more purposefully; he didn't bend with age, and folded his hands behind his back, carrying his hat in his right hand.
I also like to listen in on the conversations had by people in the exhibit I'm in-- it's not really eavesdropping if the interlocutors aren't trying to be discrete, is it? But in any case not many of them were interesting or worth noting. I did hear one woman say disgustedly, " I only like seeing sculptures of human figures, not...dogs, or...turtles."
To be fair both the canine and amphibians as a whole are shockingly underrepresented in the art world. :) Also I didn't say it in my last post but I admire what you're setting out to accomplish, and I job you don't mind that I take a backseat with you on this little journey of yours. I promise not to hound you if posts are late and such (who am I to judge). But I wish you luck in your endeavor and may peek in every so often to see what you've been up to :)
ReplyDelete-Chris (Mr.) March
You should consider visiting the RISD art museum in Providence if you haven't been... that's where I saw my first Andy Warhol.
ReplyDeleteAnd there is nothing wrong with eavesdropping. The first line in a creative writing book I read after freshman year was, simply put, go watch and listen to people and write down what you see.