![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fullygoldy) wrote2005-11-13 02:36 pm
MAM, Degas and Monet
Last night, I was describing my first visit to the Milwaukee Art Museum to a friend, and I realized I should really record these thoughts.
Last April, we went to MAM to see the Degas exhibit. It was tres cool. First of all, the MAM itself is an amazing building. It looks like a sailing ship at dock, poised on the edge of the lake they call Michigan. At least, it does when it's "wings" are closed, as I expect they are at this moment, given the incessant windstorm we're having in SE Wisc. When the wings are open, it looks like some kind of abstract albatross. I have a way cool pic that I took myself as my desktop wallpaper. We arrived just as the wings were doing the midday "flap" and I took pics from the car.
After meeting up with our friends and buying tickets, we hit the Degas exhibit. OMG, I had no idea that he did anything other than ballerinas. The exhibit is of sculptures cast in bronze from original wax models several years after Degas' demise. He only ever cast one bronze himself, "the little dancer" for 2 reasons. First, he felt bronze was too static, he liked to continuously work on his wax figures, and they littered his studio, well over a hundred of them found by his family when they finally got to look. Second, the little dancer (arguably his most famous work) created such a negative uproar, that he vowed never to exhibit his sculptures again. Fortunately for all of us, his family recognized the value of his vision and execution, and preserved the wax models until they could hire a competent bronze-smith to cast the sculptures. This is done with the 'lost wax' method, so once you attempt it, you lose the original forever. If the casting is successful, you can use the bronze to create a new mold, and recast as much as you want after that. This exhibit is not the original castings, it's the first set of sculptures cast from the originals. It's permanent home is in South America. I apologize for not remembering the country at the moment, but I learned all this in April. Geek that I am, all the technical details of the artwork (and the building) are utterly fascinating to me, but that does not dim my appreciation for the actual product. Apparently, Degas had a huge fascination or obsession with muscles in motion, and spent most of his career attempting to capture them either in wax or in paint. Horses were apparently his first love. Then came the ballerinas, because their bodies were on display and fit in ways that no other women of his time were. I can't tell you enough how amazing it was to traverse 3 rooms filled with his work. It was well worth the admission price just to see this one exhibit.
However, we saw so much more! All kinds of experimental weirdness in the modern areas, and a Wyeth I'd never seen before (I felt so pretentious, glancing over to a corner and saying to DH, "Hey, that looks like a Wyeth." We moved closer, read the little placard, and "Oh my gosh! It is a Wyeth! I've never seen this one before!" loudly enough that other patrons looked at us with expressions that plainly said "oh how pretentious!) But really, I was just excited! It had come from a collection completely different from the one that made the Greenville art museum famous. For years Greenville housed the largest private Wyeth (Andrew, et al) collection in the country on "permanent loan." Except permanent means something different than "for all time" in this instance, because the collection has gone back to it's owner in the past 6 years. I visited that display with great regularity. I felt some kind of civic ownership of that exhibit. And I can't really tell you why I like the majority of the Wyeths, especially since ol' Andrew's subjects were so sparse. But maybe it is just that brevity. I just know I really like them. The whole time I had a Greenville address, I never lived more than about 4 miles from the museum and that exhibit. I took everyone who ever visited me to see it.
But on to the piece de resistance: We wandered through the various galleries until entering one where on my left was a very large, impressionistic (it was the impressionists' gallery) view of a bridge. Over a lily pond. It was a fucking Monet! I had never seen a Monet in person, and here I was, able to touch it with my nose, if I chose to do so, and it wasn't pastel at all. It was pretty bright, and very heavily textured from all the oil paint and brush strokes. Now, I'll admit that I've always kind of liked the pastel-y, lily pond, Monet-verse. What's not to like? It's pretty and soft and easy on the eye. Even though it was challenging to the public in it's day, I don't find it challenging at all. It's completely accessible to me, maybe even too accessible. Maybe all those cheap-ass prints I've bought over the years are just, you know, pablum for art appreciators. Like, I don't truly understand or appreciate it in the way it deserves, or for the right reasons. Is it right to appreciate great art just because it's pretty? Shouldn't it speak to you? Call to you? Demand that you take the time to understand and appreciate all of it's great layered depth and meaning? You should be able to know and understand it's (socio-political) context as well as think it's pretty, right? But I'm pretty much ensconced in the school of "Do I Like It? Yes or No?" So, I am not worthy of Monet. This was my secret shame all these years, and now, I the unworthy one, am standing nose-to-nose with an original. I am strangely disappointed. Oh sure, it's impressionistic, it's definitely, recognizably his technique, his bridge, all that. But. It's leaving me flat. It does not call to me. I am saddened. I am ashamed of this proof that I am not worthy, so I say, "wow, isn't this neat? This is my first time. Neat." and I drift to the next piece, which for some reason, I'm liking better, even though it's a little too realistic for me to call impressionistic, but it's a couple in a canoe, so yay! Canoe! (See what I mean?) We drift through another couple of galleries, and apropos of nothing I glance to my left. I'm in the middle of a gallery two galleries over from the Impressionists. The doors between the galleries line up, and centered along the axis of these doors is that self-same Monet. Only now? OH. My. GOD! It is the most fantastic thing I have ever seen!! The light! The color! The freaking light is sparkling off that damn pond! I am rooted to the spot, I refuse to get any nearer than that 2nd doorway, so I'm maybe 40 or 50 feet away from this breathtaking, priceless jewel, and I'm commandeering everyone in my party over to admire it with me. They all seem to be laughing at my Monet epiphany, but I. Don't. Care. I am in art appreciation heaven. Right here in Milwaukee Wisconsin. Imagine that.
This fantastic piece which can only be appreciated from afar was painted by a man who was nose-to-nose with that canvas! How the hell did he do it! It boggles my imagination to think that he could see this thing as if he were standing 50 or 100 feet away, while he was that close. It is just. Amazing. Or was he constantly running back and forth to keep the perspective right? I don't know. But man. ::swoon::
And after relaying this same story last night, with all my passion and excitement oozing out, and my sweet, dear audience-of-one seeming to appreciate all of it, it occurs to me that all I needed was a little perspective. And now I wonder, is that why his stuff was originally so un-appreciated? How long did it take for people to realize that this was no ordinary art that you viewed from a bench 4 feet away from the piece. You can't be in the same room to grasp this. You must give it space and see the larger picture. And now I think, hey, Monet's work is a metaphor for life. We can't appreciate our lives without a larger perspective, and distance clarifies instead of obscuring. Huh. I think I've finally reached "worthy."
ETA: I think it's very interesting that Monet's work was reviled or at least shunned for being not-realistic-enough, and Degas' work involving women was labeled "obscene" because it was uber-realistic. Some critics accused Degas of misogyny because he didn't idealize 'the perfect woman' in every piece. These guys weren't so far separated in time that this would seem reasonable to me. It's just too big of a swing in my mind.
no subject
I envy my sister who lives in England, every time she goes to France she visits Monet's garden. I think I would have ecstasy of the spirit if I could see his garden and not just his paintings.
My calendar for 2006 is Monet pictures.
no subject
Oh yeah, wouldn't that be great?
Hey! You changed your hair? That's some amazing color! Are you having fun with it?
no subject
no subject
That's really cool!
no subject
(Anonymous) 2005-11-14 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)