Last week I visited my friend and since I had something to do in the museum, I took a tour of it. You see, I can’t resist few things (korean men aside) – meringues and learning something. They didn’t have the former. And when my meeting ended, I smiled to myself as some slightly not in her right mind person, and run to buy myself a ticket. And here I encountered my first shock – they have a discount for PhD students! Omo, it’s a really an exception, because usually no one cares for us!
So I visited almost all – only the temporary exhibition “Japanese steel” was unavailable, but I just shrugged and didn’t care that much. In my city we have the whole Japanese Museum, so I’m not going to cry over that. Anyway, I toured room by room and finally asked one lady if this huge building was once a private building, and she explained that never was. It was used as some municipal office long time ago. The Middle Ages art was mainly a sculpture – polychromy, to be precise, and my happiness arose when I saw some sculptures I only saw in books on art until that moment. Then I visited the hall with art spanning from 16th to 19th century (oh well, I did visit everything I could there, hehe).
I’m a sculpture girl (damn you, Michelangelo!), but looking at paintings gave me some eerie feeling. I was looking at people long dead, but still somehow present. I was wondering – if they are “alive” only in the moment of my looking at them? And when I turn my head they go back to sleep until other visitor wake them up? I almost asked a beautiful lady who she was, what room she lived in, what she liked to do. The feeling was so strong, I spent in that hall with paintings almost an hour. I remember I liked to do such things ever since I was little. When a kid I asked a big sculpture in the middle of a square if he’s not cold in winter (warrior on the horse, now I know the sculpture is of one of the Kings). And no, I never talked to walls. I guess.
Those people on the paintings died, but are still alive. As Horace once wrote: “Non omnis moriar”, and those paintings depict exactly this. I was looking at 17th century lady, admiring her robe and hair, asking her who she was. I was looking at 19th century young sisters with bright faces and I was wondering what their lives looked like – was it peaceful? Did they have hardship?
Visiting the museum makes my life richer, but in the same time, it makes me heavy for some time.
True, I visited a contemporary art section and this left me with broken bwainz… Just don’t get the exhibition of big shoes with nails in them. Since I’m history child – I almost cried seeing coins or swords from 10th century! But contemporary art? As for me, every one can do it, seriously, to splat some paint on the canvas? Or stop your drawing skills on the level of 5 years old kid?
Monuments of: Angel of Death and Pieta (mother with a dead son)
(the monument is composed with the utmost care, you see the ground is made with cubes – there are exactly 22 thousands of them, commemorating 22 thousands of officers killed by the Soviets Army)
This one was sitting on the nest, really.
One room in the museum:
The main atrium of the museum:
|Swords from 12th to 15th century|
|Spearheads from 10th century|
And finally, pastel painting that haunts me, Eloe: