July 25, 2007
Summer Trip to NYC: Part 4
This is a little out of order because really we didn't visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art until Saturday afternoon, but it will need an entry all its own, so I figured I would just get started with it. Once again, a lot more pictures of art (with bursts of erudite commentary).
We started off our visit to the Met with lunch at the rooftop grill. Mmm... ham and brie sandwich washed down with a cold Diet Coke. But the view was the best part.
We had to go through the Greek Hall to get to the elevators that took us to the roof. The Met is a maze.
And then a quick breeze through the Egyptian wing (since it was on the way to the American wing).
Ok, some John Singer Sargent. Apparently, Edith Wharton wasn't fond of JSS, according to a book Emily had recently read. I can't speak for JSS as a person, but I really like his art.
I like his portraits, of course, but really his streetscapes (like the ones of Venice) and other smaller ones (like this next one) are my favorite.
I also love Mary Cassatt. In this painting, the little girl is my favorite. There's just something about her expression.
I hadn't realized that Samuel Morse, inventor of Morse code, was an artist, too. But it would seem, according to the placard, that he wasn't the most successful one. Still, I liked these paintings of his. (At least, I think the second one is his, but I don't quite remember.)
I can't remember if this one was American or not. I can't figure out this expression, though. Just what is it? Disgust? The placard seemed to think it was sweet and charming, but I disagree. There's a petulance there that I like.
I can't remember who did this painting either, but I liked it.
I couldn't help but feel the placement of the American paintings - stuck in the back corner behind the Egyptian art and crowded into galleries with half walls or stacked from floor to ceiling, such as in the painting below - really marginalized the value of American art. I dunno, though. Maybe that's just my American inferiority complex talking. Still, it certainly wasn't in prime position. There were, however, an awful lot of paintings of George Washington. I'm glad. We need our myths.
Here is something we don't need more of though.
I don't care how elderly you are, sheer shirts require a camisole. period.
Ok, moving on to some sculptures.
Ugolino and His Sons is truly horrifying.
And yet, this son has the most peaceful expression.
There were two sculptures representing Leda and the Swan. Both of them show Leda as affectionately gazing at the swan. See:
They were an interesting contrast to my Yeats' inspired view of the legend.
Leda and the Swan
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
Let's move on to Nineteenth Century European Art. (This was my favorite class at Smith, by the way. I wish I could take it again.)
Goya. The men in the background are menacing.
I love Berthe Morisot. First of all, the name Berthe is awesome (because remember Girbaud). But also, she was a married woman who still painted. That didn't seem to happen too often. But why are the expressions of her women so blank all the time?
I have mixed feelings about Renoir. Sometimes his paintings seem too sweet. But I really like this one.
And this one, solely because of the expression of the woman facing us I don't know what it is about it.
I used to not like Degas for pretty much the same reason I have mixed feelings about Renoir. I thought he was all ballerinas, but it's paintings like this that make me love Degas.
This is a detail from a painting showing the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden. I love Eve's expression. (This reminds me of a great blog entry I read not too long ago.)
Hey, remember when BYU wouldn't let Rodin's The Kiss be exhibited? That was sad. Here's a different version.
More sculpture:
This artist is actually really little. It's almost pocket-sized.
And what collection of Nineteenth Century art would be complete without some Van Gogh. Again, just some details from larger paintings.
Before we could leave the Met, though, we had to stop by Vermeer's Young Woman with a Water Jug because it was the first painting I ever really loved. But on the way, we saw a lot of other great pieces. I never really appreciated El Greco before, but this piece... this piece made me want to look at more.
I know I've mentioned it before, but I really, really want to live in a Rococo painting like one of these.
And in total contrast, the stark solemnity of Zuberon.
Ah, here it is. Vermeer.
Next time I go to the Met, I want to spend more time in the European Paintings section. I felt like I hardly got to see anything.