So yesterday and today were our museum days. We had bought a pass that would give us access to almost all of the museums Paris has to offer, and I admittedly feel like an over stimulated child. I feel numb, I can hardly think!
We started out at the Louvre, which is of course.... a labyrinth. When people say that an adequatte viewing of the Louvre takes days, they are not lying. The funny thing is, Erik and I actually thought we had it under control! Seriously. We were going through exhibits at a good speed, highlighting certain pictures and artists we knew we wanted to see. At one point, Erik even turned to me and said, "People say the Louvre isn't manageable. I think we're doing great". I agreed. We were doing wonderfully, viewing this artist and these sculptures... people must just be nuts!
Two and a half hours go by, and I REALLY needed to see Napolean's apartment. Of course, that should clearly just be up one floor. The next floor didn't hold his apartments. Huh? What's going on? We back stepped until we were in the main area, and found a much larger map. I could feel the color flush to each of our faces as we'd realized that we'd actually only seen ONE THIRD of a certain wing. To be more specific, it took us 2.5 hours to view 1/3 of 1/3 of the museum. HA! It looks like we were the nuts ones!!
I have just one qualm with the Louvre. Can something be too beautiful? Because if so, the Louvre is it. The building is so beautiful, and has such strong history, that half the time I found myself wandering through the halls wondering which parts were the orignial, which parts were additions, and what architect inspired what design with each of the different additions. The marble, the paint choices, the trim, the stair wells, EVERYTHING here was hand picked with such deliberate purpose, you knew the very marble square you stepped on had a story that rivaled many a painting.
I wish I could be more articulate about the art we saw, but because I know so little terminology I'd hate to botch anymore than I probably already have. I will say for people who say that art doesn't 'do' it for them, or they don't 'understand' art... you just haven't seen the right piece. I've always appreciated art, but this trip has really just shattered my conception of art as a form of expression as vibrant as a word on a page.
I was walking through a room with dark red walls glancing at painting after painting. My eyes, hard at work scanning all of these different pieces, and one hit me like a mac truck.
Paul Delaroche,La Jeune Martyre, 1855.
It was as if I'd just read a 300 page novel, that was transposed into this woman's face as she lie floating in the water. This painting literally took my breath away.I didn't want to discuss it, or say why I appreciated it. I just felt it. I really felt it. I stood and looked at her as if a bit before her death she whispered me her whole life in a single breath. As we left the room, I kept turning to see this painting. As if her bound hands outstretched from the canvas, imprinting themselves on my memory indefinitely.
I've seen thousands of paintings in the last few days, and I will remember that one for the rest of my life.
.......And art is on the chopping block of budget cuts? Why? Because it can't be explained how a form of art, multifaceted in its meaning, could generate such emotion or thought? So much of the education I received growing up made art seem as though it was something for day dreamers. Unconventional, and not as concrete as the natural sciences, society gave art its place on the totem pole. And very unjustly, it came in very near the bottom. Those poor, poor people..... this time, the joke is really on them. Despite all attempts, noone will ever be able to explain to them what they're missing.
On a daily basis I find myself learning and growing. It is a phenomenal and indescribable feeling. While that will be for a much longer post, I can put this into words: Art is real. It is as dynamic and integral to human function as anything else. It has the ability to relay the history of our lives, the emotions of our soul, and to catch a moment in time exactly how one person may see it.
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