Comments on: Look what beauty there is in the world!

By: Yvonne Erwin

Yvonne Erwin — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:13:32 +0000

This might be a little different. Here in Springfield, our regional Art Museum, just opened their 2008 Watercolor collection. It opened on Friday and as I didn’t get to go on Friday, I decided I’d go this afternoon.

Normally, watercolor doesn’t do much for me as I find it just too one dimensional. However, I found the journey through each wing quite delightful today and even found a favorite, painted by an artist in Ballwin, Mo – light, color, rocks, ravines, it was amazing.

Two other works really appealed – one was called “the Optimist” and it held a long-haired man in a rain slicker, shorts and boots jaunting along on the street, looking up at the sky in the rain while everyone else in their suits and good shoes had their umbrellas open. I loved it. Even the stance of his feet shouted “optomist” to me.

The other one appealed maybe only for sentimental reasons. It was of a city street, any city, and held a burg of open shops; a guitar shop, a travel agency, a karate studio, and a bar and grill called “Michael’s Bar and Grill.” My oldest son is named Michael and so I enjoyed it very much. Also enjoyed the winter scenes there today.

Well, the exhibit will be here until August 3 and I suspect I will go again between now and then. As I left, I thought if I had a purse full of money, I would have brought home a print or two…

It makes me want to take up painting…

By: Barbara

Barbara — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 19:28:05 +0000

These moments are all so fantastic. I have new ones to put on my list.

Giverny and Florence are definitely high on my list of places to visit.

And Cindy, Kahlo. Yeah.

By: Cindy

Cindy — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 12:15:55 +0000

I love Frida Kahlo’s self portraits–but my most vivid memory of being really moved down to my toes by one of her works was “My Dress Hangs There (New York)” — I ordered a print from Mexico so now her “dress” hangs here–in my writing room.

By: Gabrielle

Gabrielle — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 08:42:51 +0000

There’s a painting at the Musée Carnavalet of a man named Armand Carrell (a writer/lawyer/militant killed in a duel when he was only 36) that just floors me. I don’t even know who it’s by but everytime I go to the Carnavalet I rush to that section (it’s not always open) and stand in front of this painting for several minutes. There’s a burning in this man’s eyes that I’ve never seen on canvas before.

I’ve also spent a great deal of time sitting on the floor in the Georgia O’Keeffe museum in Santa Fe–she takes my breath away. Then there’s Chagall’s fresco on the ceiling of the Opéra Garnier, so much joy and light.

And though I can’t say it’s a favorite work of art, David’s Coronation of Napoléon always leaves me awestruck by its sense of proportion.

I’m heading for Giverny next weekend. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a few moments then

By: Mary Jo Putney

Mary Jo Putney — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 14:22:04 +0000

Dali’s Last Supper at the National Gallery in Washington. It was huge and full of light and I wanted to just fall into it. Not sure if this link will work, but here’s trying:

http://www.angelo.edu/faculty/rprestia/1301/images/IN520Dali%20LS.jpg

By: Tapsi

Tapsi — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 06:40:56 +0000

Leonardo Da Vinci’s Adoration of the Magi at the Uffizi in Florence was totally my stunned, sudden tears, breathless ‘oh!’ moment. It immediately drew your eyes as you entered the room. I tried to make my way to it gradually, building up the anticipation, but was still unable to resist looking at it surreptitiously from time to time. A conveniently placed bench in front of it ensured that I sat there staring at it for a good, long time. Was he a genius or what?

By: Carol

Carol — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 20:23:27 +0000

Barbara, I spent the most wonderful morning at MOMA last fall, and I too was gobsmacked by that entire floor. Just beautiful thing after beautiful thing.

My absolute gobsmack memory, however, is from 1984, when there was a French Impressionist exhibit in Los Angeles in conjunction with the Olympics. They had 11 (eleven!) of Monet’s Grainstacks, installed in a circular room. I just stood in the middle and kept turning. One of my life’s goals is to see all the rest of them – slowly, it’s happening!

By: Alice B

Alice B — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 17:27:55 +0000

Yeah, gobsmacked. That’s how I felt at the Art Institute of Chicago when I came across Marc Chagall’s White Crucifixion. I was cutting through a gallery when I saw this painting. It stopped me cold. Glory, humanity and inhumanity laid out on canvas. Even though I moved on to other parts of the museum, I came back three times. Each time I was moved to tears. Isn’t it amazing how art can set your heart on fire when you least expect it?

By: Gina Black

Gina Black — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 16:36:20 +0000

I had a powerful Rousseau moment, too. I was twenty at the Tate Gallery in London. I’d been through several rooms of Turners and Gainsboroughs and Reynolds which were nice but didn’t *touch* me, and I turned around and there it was. A still life of flowers in a vase.

My eyes filled with tears and I was just taken aback. I could *feel* how he felt painting it. I don’t know how or why, but it was a HUGE moment for me.

I had another Rousseau moment–the Sleeping Gypsy at MOMA. I was there to see a Matisse retrospective and I had my boy (the one who is traveling Europe solo right now) in a stroller. I was going to have to manipulate him up an escalator so one of the guards pulled me out of line. I thought they were going to tell me I couldn’t take the stroller (which would have been a problem because the boy was falling asleep). Instead they sent me to an elevator. Right next to the elevator was Starry Night and The Sleeping Gypsy. I couldn’t believe it! What an extra bonus. I would have missed them completely.

The other most wonderful part about that trip was that the boy stayed asleep through the entire exhibit (which was enormous)–so I was able to enjoy it all–but woke when we got to the room with the cutouts. Such joyful, colorful shapes.