In my eyes, the most interesting piece in the exhibition was a statue by the sculptor Brancusi. Without reading the title, answer this question: Which animal is shown in the image below?
Le Phoque, Brancusi, 1914 |
Here's a fun thought: What if I had asked you to associate the sculpture with a person? With one of the four elements? With a nation? Like Monet's Impression, Soleil Levant, the title changes the way a viewer perceives the same piece of matter, and whether or not it is called "art."
One other piece I found near the start of the gallery is a very realist (by the painter's standards) portrait, shown below:
Arlequin, Picasso 1923 |
This obviously incomplete painting talked to me in metaphor about the absurdity of creating a portrait. When painting someone's likeness, a talented painter will try to capture some aspect that defines that person's life - something like the expressions of the faces graven on Mount Rushmore. But by definition, when a person is sitting for a portrait, their life is incomplete, so how should the painter know what must be painted? By painting only the head and shoulder of this harlequin figure and leaving the remainder a sketch in a rough background, Picasso shows that he can go no further. The portrait reflects the life of the subject - you can tell where he's been, and where he might be going, but the details haven't yet all been filled in, and the conclusion is a mystery. As someone just starting out with his own life, this is a helpful message - I still don't know yet what vision my life will pursue, but if a painting by Picasso confirms that everyone has a right to feel unfinished, that is a strong sign that I'm on a right path.
First, a brief word regarding Kupka - his paintings involved geometric patterns of colored dots on canvas, which appealed to the side of me that has always loved mathematical order. I don't have anything particularly deep to say about them, just that I'm a fan of the precision and symmetry in his work.
Finally, I'll say two words about the path I took through the museum. Inside, the museum is divided into fifty small, adjoining galleries on each floor, and it's easy to get caught up looking at each one if you enter without a plan. After spending more than an hour working my way through the first half of the galleries on the first level I was exhausted. While taking a pause from the increasingly weird artwork, I happened to look out a window and catch a glimpse of the western half of Paris at sunset. This was a more interesting sight than the paintings, in my estimation, so I decided to leave and spend time watching the sun set on Paris. Once I went downstairs to leave, I felt bad missing out on half the pieces in the museum, so I set off at a quick walk through the central corridor. These more modern pieces were more my style - there was much more geometry in their design than I had seen in the abstract figures and surreal scenes above. I wish I'd spent more time in this section of the museum, but the city did beckon. As with so many places in Paris, it was impossible to see everything in one visit, and that just leaves something interesting for next time I visit.
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