Fantastic Paradise by Niki de Saint-Phalle, Moderna Museet, Stockholm, Sweden (Oct 2024)
My idea of a perfect day includes an art museum, champagne, delicious food, and laughter.
This is how I plan to spend my 56th birthday this year: in Vienna, visiting the Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, the Belvedere, Belvedere 21, and the Leopold Museum, home to a major collection of works by one of my favorite artists, Egon Schiele.
Houses by the Sea by Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum, Vienna, Austria (Oct 2024)
It’s not uncommon for me to walk through parts of a museum and say nope, nope, nope, as I move toward something that catches my eye and then I move in for a closer look.
I love art, but not all art.
And some art that I love now, I only recently started appreciating as it became more familiar to me, through repetition.
For me, exposure breeds familiarity and familiarity makes it less intimidating, and more inviting.
I used to think that I had to read all the placards to learn about the art and the artist but that led to fatigue and overwhelm and I ended up missing entire pieces, not just the details of a few pieces.
I want to learn and better understand art in general, and I love a good audio guide, but I tend to tune in and out, as the narrator explains a piece of art, the artist, or the art genre, picking up a piece of info here and there.
But it takes repetition and something specific to catch my attention before the details begin to stick, or for me to remember an artist from one museum to the next.
Nana by Niki de Saint-Phalle, National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC (Aug 2024)
Like when I saw my first Nana by Niki de Saint-Phalle at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC and thought she was interesting. I like how bold, colorful, and curvy she was. She screamed “joy!”
The next day, I saw this piece, Pregnant Nana, at the National Museum of Women in the Arts, further piquing my curiosity about Niki de Saint-Phalle. I did some research and learned more about her, including the fact that she had close ties to Stockholm which we planned to visit later in the fall.
So, I added her Fantastic Paradise pieces to our list of things to see and do while in Stockholm. While the exhibit was under renovation, the huge, brightly colored and whimsical pieces were still visible and a joy to see.
And then I realized she was everywhere, including the train station in Zürich, because everyone needs a guardian angel when they travel. I’ll get into other artists’ work (like Viola Frey) that remind me of hers in a future blog post.
While I love art discovery journeys like the one I’ve been on with Niki’s work, I’m always happy to take a shortcut.
My son Adam took an Etruscan art class his final semester of college, right before I took him to Europe to celebrate his graduation. As we walked through numerous museums with Etruscan art, he shared with me what he’d learned, explained what the elements meant, and what to look for. I loved having a personal tour guide.
Now, when I see Etruscan funerary art, I stop and take a closer look, searching for the different meanings, most of which I’ve forgotten, but his enthusiasm was contagious.
Art needn’t be a solo experience. In fact, when shared, we can see things that we might otherwise miss.
While I’d noticed partially peeled lemons, it wasn’t until my friend Jacqueline told me why that we see them in 17th-century Dutch and Flemish still life paintings. It was a way for an artist to demonstrate their skill with texture, light, and illusion.
Once she’d explained this to me, I looked for the lemons and would send her pictures from wherever in the world I was. But then I started looking at other parts of the paintings and began to appreciate the delicacy of the nautilus that I would often see (or the morbidity of the skulls), and how the artist would create reflections in the glass and silver.
I would have walked right past those details had Jacqueline not shared what she saw first, the lemon.
There are so many examples of this that I plan to share in future blog posts on what I look for, see, and experience with art.
This series of blog posts was inspired by my friend Sandy who claims to not be an art person. She shared with me that when I talk about art, it makes art interesting to her and she wants more. Actually, she suggested I write a book, and I countered with a series of blog posts so here we are, and Sandy, this one’s for you.
I am not an art historian or an expert. I plan to share what I see and feel about art, but do not expect a complete art history lesson.
As I prepared for this series, I compiled a list of the museums, religious buildings, and castles as a reference point. I thought there might be 100 places on the list, but right now I’m at over 300 and I’m not yet done compiling the list. Frankly, it’s overwhelming.
Over the past five years, art has become all about being curious and open as I see more and more with Zeke and Terri Adventures. I’m even building our trips and itineraries around specific museums like the Prado when we visit Madrid in April.
If this series does anything, I hope it gives you permission to walk through a museum saying “nope, nope, nope” until something makes you stop. And then to stand there as long as you like.
Observe what you are drawn to. Take a closer look. Follow your curiosity. See where it takes you. Be playful about it. Leave room for surprise and serendipity.
Come on. Let’s go. What are you waiting for?