As you probably noticed, I’ve been slacking on my weekly daydreaming.  That’s because I picked up last minute, mileage tickets (read: free!) and had only 4 days to plan a whirlwind Spring Break!  I didn’t end up having the city and museum break that I was thinking about, but I had an incredible time!  Lots of new cities and new sights; I even wrapped up some unfinished business from this summer.

I have lots of art and history to share but first let me give you some clues about my trips via a new (well, actually very old) media.

Late March was unseasonably cold in the low countries – chilly temperatures, biting winds and cloudy days.  The only redeeming thing about cold weather is lovely snow.  We got a dusting overnight in Bruges which made the Medieval brick houses and empty cobbled streets really stand out.  I gladly put on an extra sweater and enjoyed a peaceful morning stroll through town!

It wasn’t until I visited Greece a few years ago that I really got a good look at live olive trees.  Despite being an agricultural powerhouse, the trunk of the olive tree is twisted and deeply etched.  The foliage is expansive but not dense.  In the shade, the bark and leaves appear to have grey-blue undertones.  These are visually interesting, complex and very hardy looking trees.  With a new found appreciation for these Mediterranean wonders, a huge light-bulb went off at the (abridged) Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam.  The olive tree was possibly the best subject in the natural world for Vincent van Gogh and has resulted in some of my new favorite paintings in this catalog.

Vincent van Gogh, “Saint Remy, 1889″, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

Vincent van Gogh encountered orchards of olive trees in Saint Remy in the South of France .  While recuperating in an asylum there between 1889-90, he frequently painted landscapes and scenes of provincial life.  Van Gogh completed 18 paintings of olive trees or olive harvesting which I find surprisingly low considering he was completing a canvas a day toward the end of this career.

Vincent van Gogh “The Olive Orchard”, 1889, National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC

Some have accused Vincent van Gogh of being a “poor draughtsman” because his drawings are done with excessively curved lines and stray from exact representation.  I assume this was an obvious stylistic choice as one often finds his curved outlines accented and emphasized with pairs of lines, short dynamic lines or concentric curved lines.  This method of drawing naturally mirrors the motion and outline of a twisting olive tree which really highlights the beauty of the tree trunk and branches.

Vincent van Gogh “Olive Trees with Yellow Sky and Sun”, 1889, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Minneapolis

The inherent variety of colors in the foliage of an olive tree and the aridness of the soil in which they typically grow would have been exciting subjects for an artist who studied color and the emotional affect of color in this paintings.  Vincent van Gogh’s vibrant olive grove paintings range from cool blues and greens to parched reds and yellows.

Vincent van Gogh “Olive Orchard” June 1889, Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands

And so I had to spend a little extra time this visit with the olive tree paintings.  Between the motion and color of Vincent van Gogh’s work, I think he came very close to expressing the rough physicality and beauty of olive trees.  As a whole, these works study how the changing light over the course of a day alters the appearance of the olive tree.  If that’s not worth a second look in a museum, I don’t know what is.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about genre paintings of the Dutch masters, it’s the importance of the domestic interior.  In some of these paintings you see individuals, families, and colleagues carrying on their daily business with a quiet diligence.  I am always impressed by the clean and orderly world these characters occupy.  Nothing is ostentatious, nor it is boring.  Judging from the open windows throughout Amsterdam, the modern Dutch have maintained their historic skill at creating peaceful interior design.

Here are just some of the modern and recreated examples of Dutch interiors I found in Amsterdam along with their art historical counterparts.

Rembrandt, “De Staalmeesters (The Sampling Officials)” 1662, Rijksmuseum Museum, Amsterdam

Cornelis de Man “Man Weighing Gold” 1670, Private collection

Jacobus Vrel, “The Hospital Orderly”, Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten, Antwerp

Pieter de Hooch, “Een vrouw met een kind in een kelderkamer (A woman with a child in a basement room)”, 1656 – 1660, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

Jacob Ochtervelt, “A Family Group”, 1670, Szépmûvészeti Múzeum, Budapest

You know the cliché about the incredible man or woman who turns heads as they enter the room?  Somehow they have a power, beauty or shear presence that cannot be ignored.  That’s essentially my experience seeing Jan van Eyck’s The Madonna and Child with Canon van der Paele at the Groeningemuseum in Bruges.  As many times as I left the gallery and walked back in, I couldn’t escape it.  The painting glowed with a brilliant depth of color and mesmerizing realism.  It was a window into some heavenly scene surrounded by dull and simple paintings – which is particularly impressive considering the gallery was filled with works by Hans Memling and even a few small van Eyck’s!  This painting is simply a masterpiece.

Jan van Eyck – “The Madonna and Child with Canon van der Paele”

The Madonna and Child with Canon van der Paele depicts a mystic audience between the Virgin, the infant Christ and Jan van der Paele, a pious Bruges patron shown kneeling mid-prayer.  The group is joined by the patron saint of Bruges St. Dominik of Reims dressed in blue and by St. George the patron saint of Jan van der Paele.  The ensemble resides in a deep arcaded space with colored marble columns and an intricately tiled floor.  While not providing light for the figures, there are warped circular glass windows at the back of the scene that hint of an outside garden.  Small carvings in the throne and in the column capitals show Biblical scenes foreshadowing the birth and sacrifice of Jesus.  Overall, the painting is executed with an incredible realism, both in its conception of the physical space and in the details of the brocade robes, jewels and armor.

Saint Donatian of Reims from Jan van Eyck’s “Madonna with Canon van der Paele”

While the Madonna and St. George are youthful and elaborately clothed, I was far more drawn to the wrinkled, puffy and sagging face of Canon Peale.  Masterfully executed, you can see all the details of the man’s face without noticing any brushwork.  The naturalism is really stunning; my photo doesn’t do it justice.

Close up of Canon Peale from Jan van Eyck’s “The Madonna and Child with Canon van der Paele”

I was also drawn to the brightly colored carpet underneath the throne.  The pattern is bold, geometric and vaguely Oriental.  This must have been a luxurious detail for contemporary viewers.  I love how well the carpet was painted.  Rather than just filling in the colored pattern, Van Eyck has taken great care to show the weave of the carpet, how it weighs on itself and even how the surface fibers crack over the edge of the step, thus in every way mimicking a real rug.

Rug detail from Jan van Eyck’s “The Madonna and Child with Canon van der Paele”

I think my least favorite parts of the painting were the rather feature-less Madonna and the strange face of the infant.  Mary looks more like Eve from Jan van Eyck’s Ghent Altarpiece which is not a flattering portrait.  At least off-setting these detractions, the Virgin’s voluminous and heavy robes are beautiful.  I also appreciate that the child was posed in a more natural, squirming position.

Close up of the Virgin and Child from Jan van Eyck’s “Madonna with Canon van der Paele”

I generally don’t buy a lot of souvenirs when I travel, so in retrospect I missed a good one.  The gift shop at the Groeningemuseum actually sold little stuffed green bird toys.  What a brilliant gift idea for a baby shower! In the end, I grabbed a reusable shopping bag for 2Euro.  It’s not nearly as vivid as the real painting, but then again I put groceries in it.  And frankly, I would never get anything done if my shopping bag warranted a few moments of admiration every time I took it out.

Jan van Eyck’s The Madonna and Child with Canon van der Paele is quite possibly one of the most beautiful paintings I have ever seen.  It is inconspicuously hidden in a succinct but powerful gallery and well worth the opportunity to stare inches from the surface at the physical painting or to sit quietly and soak in the radiating effect of the whole.

Filed under: Art History, Travel Tagged: art, art history, Belgium, Bruges, Jan van Eyck, masterpieces, museums, Northern Renaissance, Painting, travel

The monthly ArtSmart Roundtable brings together some of the best art history-focused travel blogs with a post around a common theme.  This month we are discussing artists you should look for on your travels.  Below are links to all the group’s posts this month.

Hidden face believed to be a self-portrait of Hieronymus Bosch in “The Garden of Earthly Delights” (Museo del Prado, Madrid)

Artist like Michelangelo and Picasso were truly sparks for an era, catalyzing sweeping changes with their creativity and vision.  Occasionally in art history we find brilliant, creative artists who stood out as unique individuals in their era but remain isolated from prevailing and subsequent artistic trends.  No one represents this more for me than Hieronymus Bosch whose bizarre, complex and wholly singular style stands out among the stars of the Northern Renaissance.

Upon closer inspection of this fairly standard “St. Christopher”, we see a jug tree house, a swimmer fleeing a dragon and other fantastic details characteristic of Hieronymus Bosch. (Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam)

Little biographical information is known of Bosch (1450-1516) but it is believed he learned to paint from a family member.  Some of his works mimic the smooth figures and tranquil landscapes of typical early Dutch art such as in St. Christopher above.  However, his imagination eventually prevailed and Bosch’s paintings and drawings became filled with monsters and mysterious creatures in strange scenarios.  The subject matter of the painting are not just pure fantasy but pull from religious and moral themes, albeit depicted in a wholly unique way.  Bosch’s paintings are incredibly detailed and beckon viewers to examine ever single figure.

The damned have long been hounded by devils in European Last Judgement scenes, but only Bosch created platypus-faced and walking head monsters who carry souls like wild game. Detail from “Last Judgement Triptych” Akademie der bildenden Künste, Vienna.

Two monstrous cooks prepare the greedy in this detail from “Last Judgement Triptych” Akademie der bildenden Künste, Vienna.

I think its easy to see a painting by Bosch and assume that his work was too outlandish to be accepted by contemporaries who were use to serene religious themes.  However, I think this is unfair.  Bosch’s paintings make sense in the context of incredibly vivid Medieval morality plays.  15th century Europeans watched folk plays in which the devil commonly appeared and interacted with humans.  The immoral were punished in accordance with their crimes as we see in Dante’s Inferno, while Just and Good were aided by angels.  In this way, demons, monsters, angels and fundamental moral themes would have been easily recognized and understood by contemporary viewers.  In “Death and the Miser” at the National Gallery of Art in DC, we see rat-faced demons encouraging the hoarding of money while an angel petitions for the man’s salvation at the hour of Death’s arrival.  Likewise the Book of Revelation with its vivid imagery of the Apocalypse was coming into popularity so huge, fantastic but religious imagery was not outside one’s conscience.

Hieronymus Bosch – “Death and the Miser”, National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC

Only 25 paintings have been attributed to Hieronymus Bosch.  The largest collection of which reside at the Prado Museum in Madrid, but there are singular pieces scattered throughout the great museums of Europe.  His most famous piece is “The Garden of Earthly Delights.”  While executed as a Triptych of Eden, Earth and Hell, it was probably meant for viewing in a residential rather than religious setting.  Books have been written trying to unlock the religious and folklore symbolism in this incredibly complex piece.  Have a look yourself and see what pops out at you!  With any luck, you might find something odd and entertaining, if not also a moral instructive.

Hieronymus Bosch – “Garden of Earthly Delights”, c 1500, Museo del Prado, Madrid

For the rest of the May ArtSmart Roundtable, see:

• Erin of A Sense of Place – The Optical Illusion of Guarino Guarini
• Murissa of The Wanderfull Traveler – Yvette Cauquil-Prince & her Chagall Tapestries
• Jeff of Eurotravelogue – The Art of Édouard Manet, Pioneer of Modernism
• Jenna of This is My Happiness – The Best Place to See Caravaggio in Rome
• Lesley of CultureTripper – The Visual Enigmas of Rene Magritte

And don’t forget to “like” our group on Facebook for art & travel news!

The restaurant I’m recommending for “Best Brunch in Boston” actually has only average to above average food.  The dim sum at Empire Garden is good and certainly satisfying, but I really want you to go there because of the unbelievably beautiful and historic dining room.

Empire Garden Chinese Restaurant, Boston (photo: Wikimedia)

Empire Garden is located at 690 Washington St. in the downtown Chinatown neighborhood.  I love dim sum and so we wandered into this restaurant by chance one Saturday.  As you enter, there is a large curving staircase which leads to a second floor foyer.  From there you enter a magnificent and cavernous dining room.  The Empire Garden started life as a turn of the century theater and retains all the elegant character of its past.

Opened Sept 14, 1903, this building was the 3rd incarnation of the Globe Theater in Boston and originally seated 1,536.  The Globe Theater was known for popular vaudeville acts, “clean” burlesque, dramas, comedies, and musical performances.  Such legends as Abbott and Costello and Gypsy Rose Lee performed on this stage.[1]  In 1947, it became the Center Theater and transitioned to showing only movies.  In these images from 1955 and 1973, you can see the theater changing along with the neighborhood which began slowly declining.  By 1995, the movie theater closed and the building was reborn as a Chinese restaurant.

Surprisingly, you can still see a lot of the 1903 theater in the restaurant today.  The dining area extends from the stage through the seating area.  Albeit closed, the balcony is intact.  The lovely vaulted ceiling creates a massive open space giving the dining area an almost regal feeling.  The scalloped arches are a bright, shimmering gold while a muted gold has been used for some of the decorative accents on the ceiling arches.  The neo-rococo capitals are garishly painted, but I can’t help but think this may have been the original color scheme.  The wall panels have been decorated with clouds, cherry trees and Chinese motifs but even these seem to work with the elegant early 20th century moldings.

There are few settings better for brunch than a 110 year old theater.  The architectural design and decorative details are a pleasant distraction and a spectacle in themselves.  Plus, when you actually start getting hungry, the steamed dumplings are pretty good too.

Delicious dim sum at Empire Garden, Boston (Photo: hmmlargeart, flickr)

[1]  “The Gaiety Theater Study Report,”  Boston Landmarks Commission, Environment Department, City of Boston

Some people travel to new countries to expand the percentage of the world they’ve seen.  Some less adventurous but equally ambitious travelers try to visit all 50 US States, all the Major League baseball parks or some other coherent list of places.  Personally, I travel to see art.  Jan van Eyck’s Ghent Altarpiece was high on my “To Do List”.  Sadly, efforts to protect and preserve the work really interfered with my enjoyment of the painting, making this art pilgrimage a little disappointing.

My favorite panels are the three mystic figures in the upper central section of the altarpiece – Mary, God the Father/Jesus, and St. John the Baptist (shown).

After reading Noah Cherney’s book last Fall, the Ghent Altarpiece had been nudging me for a visit.  Arguably one of the greatest pieces of Western Art and stolen on several occasions, this mystic and complex piece seemed to deserve a closer look (even if incredible high resolution photographs were available online).  So in planning my March trip to Amsterdam and Normandy, France, I made sure we stopped in Ghent, Belgium.  We were there for maybe 3 hours which was enough time to park, run around the old town, walk through St. Bavo Cathedral and spend some time with Jan van Eyck’s masterpiece.  And that is all we did in Ghent!

I only took a photograph of the altarpiece in situ because the guard stepped out to make a cell phone call.

Housed in a small chapel to the left of the entrance of St. Bavo Cathedral, the Ghent Altarpiece is sealed in a huge glass case which makes it very difficult to view.  Ideally one would like to observe this finely detailed Van Eyck at nose-length, not through greasy, fingerprint covered glass.  The panels were also very poorly lit such that the upper register was in noticeable shadows.  My three favorite figures, clothed in radiant jewels, were hard to see in the upper central panels.  At that point, I was really thankful I could get so close to Van Eyck’s other masterpiece in Bruges.

The chapel was also incredibly crowded.  Tour group after tour group pressed in, pushed their way in a slow lap around the case and left in a few minutes.  Guides aren’t allowed to talk in the chapel so they prep their groups in St. Bavo and then rush them through.  Luckily the church stops letting visitors in 30min before the Chapel closes so the throng did eventually clear out.  An important point for visitors, the Altarpiece has separate hours and closes before the Cathedral does.  I noticed some forlorn travelers outside who apparently didn’t know this and weren’t allowed to enter.

The front of the Ghent altarpiece isn’t nearly as impressive in black and white.

I knew before we arrived that several of the panels would not be on display as the whole work was undergoing cleaning piece by piece.  Upon entering I saw that the Adam and Eve panels were grayed reproductions indicating that these were removed.  I can manage that I thought, but then I was disappointed to see that all of the front panels had been removed – the Annunciation, the donors and the lovely trompe l’oeil stone saints.  Since the altarpiece spent the majority of its existence in the closed format, these panels are critical to understand the historical experience of the piece.  I was also looking forward to seeing the stone-like saints which I’ve read have a very subtle limestone coloration and are not simply grisaille paintings.

19th century replacement panels for Adam and Eve in modest bear skin garments. I wasn’t able to take my own picture this time because the guard was not using his cell phone.

A pair of repainted modest Adam and Eve panels are hung much closer to eye level outside the chapel in St. Bavo.  The foreshortening, especially on Adam, is really striking when you have the image in front of you.  I suppose you can see this in reproductions of the image but it is very dramatic at full size.

Matching liturgical vestments in the St. Bavo Cathedral treasury.

There was some upside to being in St. Bavo at least.  There is a reproduction of the Altarpiece in the side chapel it originally occupied.  It was hilarious how huge and unsuited for this space the altarpiece is.  You can just barely enter the chapel with the wings opened.  The windows are to the upper right of the piece so it was cool to see the shadows falling in line with the natural light source.  There are also a couple accompanying Ghent Altarpiece liturgical items in the Cathedral treasury which were fun to find.  Lastly, Noah Cherney posits that the missing “Righteous Judges” panel may have been or may still be hidden in St. Bavo’s.  I certainly thought about this as I walked through the Cathedral contemplating which stone slab or chapel could have or may still be concealing the lost image.

Until next time…

In the end, I’m glad I stopped in Ghent to see Jan van Eyck’s Altarpiece.  I still experienced that moment of awe when I first walked in and saw the entire open piece before me.  I’m thankful for that.  With the upper figure panels darkened, I spent a lot of time looking at the angel panels which I’d never given much attention to but are really beautiful as well.  I love seeing art in situ but given the history of this piece, the extensive glass case may actually be warranted.  Much like the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, the fame and crowds that the Ghent Altarpiece attracts were ultimately a huge and unfortunate distraction.  Then again, I’d be willing to give it another chance – provided all the panels are on display and its a slow day for visitors.

In recent years, my travels have focused on the Mediterranean with trips to Greece, Turkey and Italy.  I love ancient Roman art and the Italian Renaissance, but I thought it was time to diversify a bit.  With a trip to Amsterdam and Belgium, I thought I could now finally spend some time with Dutch Primitives, also known as the art of the Northern Renaissance.  And then look what I find tucked away in the Low Countries: a real Michelangelo!

Michelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges at the Church of Our Lady in Bruges (Adapted from Jean-Pol Grandmont on Wikimedia)

Michelangelo finished this small (only 50 inches) Madonna and Child marble statue in 1504.  Originally part of a commission of 15 statues for Pope Pius III, the project was discontinued following the completion of just this one piece.  The Madonna and Child was then purchased by Jan Van Moeskroen, a wealthy Belgian cloth merchant and brought to Bruges a few years later.  It is now known as The Madonna of Bruges and has been on display in a side chapel in The Church of Our Lady (Onze Lieve Vrouwekerk) since the Moeskroen Family donated the work in 1516.  The Madonna of Bruges is the only piece by Michelangelo to left Italy during his lifetime.

Michelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges in black and white (Photo: Miles Berry, flickr)

This statue shows a seated Mary tenderly holding toddler Jesus who reposes between her legs and leans on her thigh. The two hold hands as the mother seems to both console the child with her presence and limit him from wandering way.  This grouping seems altogether very natural and familiar.  This child seems far more life-like (especially compared to Van Eyck piece I recently discussed).  I can easily imagine him squirming under his mother’s protection.  The composition further balances the chubby nudity of the child with the elaborate folds of Mary’s garment.

Close up of Jesus from Michelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges (Photo: H. Stanbury, flickr)

Eyes downcast, Mary’s gaze is distant and peaceful, but strikingly familiar.  The face of the Madonna is very similar to the more famous Pieta at the Vatican which was completed approximately 5 years before the Madonna of Bruges.  In both pieces, she looks downward at no one particular focal point.  Her face is serene and emotionless.  While the Bruges woman has slightly more Roman features, the physical and iconographic resemblance is very clear.

Comparison of Michelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges (left photo) and Pieta (right) in the Vatican.

I had the pleasure of taking a very good look at the Madonna of Bruges.  The Church of Our Lady is undergoing major renovation this year and so Catholic masses have been moved into the chapel which contains Michelangelo’s sculpture.  I went for Palm Sunday service and since I don’t understand Dutch and was sitting near the front, I basically stared at the statue for an hour.  The size was really what struck me.  In just this small piece, you find all the balanced composition, softness and refinement one recognizes in the work of Michelangelo but normally at a larger than life scale.

Side chapel containing Michelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges in The Church of Our Lady, Bruges (Photo: fmpgoh, flickr)

The Church of Our Lady (Onze Lieve Vrouwekerk) has limited viewing hours this summer so check before you arrive in Bruges.  You definitely don’t want to miss a chance to sneak just one Italian Renaissance piece into your trip.

The monthly ArtSmart Roundtable brings together some of the best art-focused travel blogs who all post on a common theme.  This month we are discussing great paintings!  Below are links to the rest of the group’s posts this month.  I’m curious to see what everyone picked!

John Everett Millais, “Ophelia”, 1851-1852, Tate Gallery, London

I was lucky enough to have some treasure from the Tate Gallery in London come to me as part of the National Gallery of Art’s exhibit – “Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Art and Design, 1848–1900″.  The Pre-Raphaelite movement began in the later half of the 19th century in England.  They rejected the academic execution of art and sought to return to a more emotional, detailed, and colorful style.  Compositionally they drew from 14th century Italian art, hence the association with art “pre-Raphael”.  For me, the centerpiece of this recent exhibition was John Everett Millais’s Ophelia, a naturalistic and hauntingly beautiful piece.

Close up of John Everett Millais, “Ophelia”

You may already recognize the painting Ophelia.  Clearly people like it; it actually sells the most postcards at the Tate Gallery.  It depicts the drowning of Hamlet’s love Ophelia who has had a mental break-down following the murder of her father by Hamlet.  The event is only alluded to in Shakespeare’s play but here it has been enacted in a lush British stream bank.  Shown floating just under the surface of the water, Ophelia does not appear to be actively trying to drown herself, nor does she appear capable of saving herself, thus creating a psychologically tense and dramatic image.

John Everett Millais created the environment first with painstaking natural observation and then added in Ophelia.  (Image poorly imagined for effect.)

Ophelia was an incredibly difficult painting to create.  Working outdoors, Millais first completed the stream banks and forest.  He labored 11 hours a day, 6 days a week, for 5 months to finish the landscape.  While most artists at the time considered the outdoor setting of a painting to be tertiary to the figures, Pre-Raphaelite are known for their intense study and rendering of nature. The recreated image above shows how well composed and interesting the landscape alone would have been as a finished painting.  I must admit, I never appreciated the landscape until I saw this painting in person.  The detail and realism was incredible.  While you can see the lushness of the river banks in reproductions of this image, in front of the painting the individual grasses, flowers and vegetation really pop.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, “Watercolor sketch of Elizabeth Siddal”, 1854, Delaware Art Museum

After completing the riverscape, Millais then brought the piece back to London.  He used model Elizabeth Siddal (age 19) for Ophelia.  Siddal later became of the muse and wife of Pre-Raphaelite master Dante Gabriel Rossetti.  Dressed in a finely embroidered gown, Miss Siddal spent hours in a bath tub simulating Ophelia’s watery pose.  Oil lamps were used to heat the tub but were not sufficient during the cold winter weather and she eventually became very ill.  Although known for her fragile health, Siddal’s father eventually forced Millais to pay for her doctor’s bills.  Much like Ophelia, Elizabeth had a tragic life.  Following a tumultuous marriage to Rossetti (stoked by jealousy) and the death of their infant, Siddal died of an apparent drug overdose at age 32.

“Ophelia” is filled with symbolic plants (such as the forget-me-not and pink roses) and flowers explicitly mentioned in Hamlet (violets and daisies).

Forlorn lovers and abandoned wives were popular subjects for Pre-Raphaelite artists.  While contemporaries pulled from historical and legendary stories for their subject matter, the Pre-Raphaelite were the first to extensively use Shakespearean texts.  Millasis paid careful attention and included flowers specially mentioned in the play.  For example, in her disturbed state, Ophelia gives her brother a daisy and pansies before wandering off stage for the last time.  These can now be seen scattered around her along with other flowers symbolizing youth, beauty, love and death.

Detail of Ophelia’s face

The beautiful and tragic imagery of Ophelia was as powerful for its first viewers as it is for us today.  I found a wonderful review of the painting in the humor magazine Punch from its first public exhibition in 1852.  Like me, the author had a hard time initially appreciating the landscape when confronted with such a sad character as Ophelia.  Perhaps uncharacteristically, he couldn’t think of anything snarky or critical to write about the piece and appears to have been truly moved.  I think this sums up well why we can’t stop looking at this incredible work of art:

[One could write about] those water mosses, and the over making-out of the rose-leaves, and the abominable finish of those river-side weeds matted with gossamer, which the field botanist may identify leaf by leaf. I tell you, I am aware of none of these. I see only that face of poor drowning Ophelia. My eye goes to that, and rests on that, and sees nothing else, till-buffoon as I am, mocker, joker, scurril-knave, street jester by trade and nature  – the tears blind me, and I am fain to turn from the face of the mad girl to the natural loveliness that makes her dying beautiful.    — ”Our Critic’ Among the Pictures,’ Punch, 2 May 1852, pp.216-217.

Ophelia is on exhibit in Moscow until Sept 2013 and then returns to the Tate Gallery in London.

For the rest of the June ArtSmart Roundtable, see:

• Erin of A Sense of Place – The Tres Riches Heures Miniatures
• Murissa of The Wanderful Traveler – “Leonor Fini: Painting Female Super-Heroines Before Their Time” - Leonor Fini, La Chambre Noire 1939
• Jeff of Eurotravelogue – Vermeer’s “The Art of Painting”
• Lesley of CultureTripper – Deciphering Dali’s The Hallucinogenic Toreador
• Jenna of This is My Happiness -

And don’t forget to “like” our group on Facebook for art & travel news!

When the first Spring blossoms have arrived and the trees start to turn green with immature shoots, then it’s time for me to visit the Mt. Auburn Cemetery.  Founded in the 1830′s, many elite Bostonians are buried in the rolling 174 acres of this graveyard.  Like many old cemeteries, Mt. Auburn is more of a park filled with historic and interesting memorials.  Early May is one of the best times to visit when you can stroll and enjoy the mix of burgeoning color and partially bare trees.

The Mt. Auburn Cemetery is a short bus ride from Harvard Square in Cambridge.  Nearby is the Sofra Bakery and Cafe, one of my favorite lunch spots in the city.

Bernini created the interior marble facade, canopy and high altar of St. Peter’s Basilica, Vatican City (Photo: rachel_titiriga, flickr)

Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598 – 1680) should be familiar to visitors to Rome.  He essentially created the Baroque city that we see today producing sculptures, fountains, buildings and the majority of the interior of St. Peter’s Basilica.  Considering that he started creating accurate portrait busts at 14 and continued to work until he was 82, Bernini is deservedly known as a prolific genius.  But did you know that even his work was occasionally rejected?

Bernini “Self-Portrait (1635)” Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence, Italy

Always eager to learn (and to technically travel to Europe for 3 hours), I attended a lecture by Prof. Franco Mormando on Bernini at the Italian Embassy in DC.  Besides now needing to read his biography of Bernini, I learned some interesting episodes from the life of the artist.  I was surprised to hear the story of a Bernini sculpture that was initially rejected and therefore ultimately saved.

Bernini, “Bust of Louis XIV” 1666, Versailles Palace, France

As a stipulation in a cease-fire agreement, Bernini was coerced into leaving his beloved Rome to serve 5 months in the court of Louis XIV.  (The armed conflict may have been started purely with this result in mind, but I digress.)  In Paris, Bernini dutifully created a portrait bust of Louis balancing his physical likeness with the grandeur that was “the Sun King”.

Bernini’s terracotta model of the Louis XIV Equestrian Statue, Galleria Borghese, Rome

In another piece of royal propaganda, Bernini prepared an equestrian statue of the King dressed as a Roman General.  The terracotta model of the piece is above.  At the last minute, Bernini decided to carve the king smiling.  Louis was furious when he saw the final piece and wanted to destroy it.  Thankfully cooler-headed advisers counseled the King against this and had the face of the rider re-carved as a Greek General to “correct” the issue.  Still a somewhat disappointing sculpture for Louis XIV, the altered statue was relegated to a far section of the gardens of Versailles, the King’s palace at the time.

Lead reproduction of the altered Bernini sculpture of Louis XIV

About a hundred years later, revolutionaries stormed Versailles destroying images of the kings.  Bernini’s statue was spared because it obviously no longer depicted Louis XIV.  However, because of its placement at a far corner of the gardens, it continued to sit unnoticed for centuries.

In the mid-1980′s,  I. M. Pei was selected to re-design the courtyard of the Louvre.  To fit with his modern aesthetic and dramatic plans, he wanted all the statues and monuments removed from the palace courtyard, with one exception.  I. M. Pei loves Bernini’s work and as a tribute, asked for a copy of the altered Louis XIV equestrian statue to be placed in the courtyard.  Thus one of the few works designed by Bernini and executed in France by him (with his workshop) could be incorporated into the greatest art museum in the country.  The original stone statue remains at Versailles, although now it is inside and protected.

Louvre courtyard today showing the museum, I. M. Pei’s Pyramid and a copy of Bernini’s sculpture. (Photo: trekEarth)

Already in the shadow of the Louvre’s beautiful architecture and massive art collection, many visitors probably don’t notice the Bernini in the courtyard.  Even fewer people probably realize that this beautiful piece survived an angry monarch, a violent mob and potential oblivion to come to a place of honor today.

The sacred way to the Ascelpium, just outside Pergamon, Turkey.

Even without the advantage of modern MRI’s and antibiotics, the Ancient Greeks understood something about health.  Just outside many of the largest ruins from the ancient world, you will find a Sanctuary to Asclepius, God of Health.  Taking in sick locals and travelers alike, most of these centers included steam-rooms, baths, theaters and doctors ready to interpret the patient’s dreams.  Seemingly the best cures resulted from a little relaxation and spa time.  And since near death patients were secreted out of the facility, it appeared the no one died at the Ascelpium under the care of the priests.

Ascelpius statue from the Pergamon Museum in Berlin (Photo: Wikicommons)

Pergamon, Tuekey, the great capital of the Ancient Greeks in Northwestern Turkey, was build on a mountain with an Ascelpium complex in the valley below.  Significant portions of the site exist today including the road into the city, a healing complex and colonnaded street connecting the main temple, theater and other medical buildings.

In the foreground, former guest rooms and the theater of the Ascelpium at Pergamon in the back

Decorative lintel on display at on the Ascelpium grounds.

Portion of the western Stoa (or portico), Ascelepius, Pergamon

The main treatment center was a round structure composed of concentric rings of small rooms and hallways.  Today it is an impressive partial ruin of huge bricks and arches.

An underground tunnel lit by sky-lights connects the treatment center to a residential area of the Ascelpium allowing patients to walk back and forth.  A small stream flowed underneath the length of the tunnel providing soothing white noise for patients.  Contemporary accounts state that this space was particularly useful for those suffering from mental illness.

A few of the healing baths still remain.  While it doesn’t look like people are using this one anymore, at least someone is enjoying the refreshing pool.

In honor of Bastille Day, I have a little French Art History trivia for you.  I found the following painting in Rouen and want to see if you can correctly guess the artist who painted it.  (No cheating and scrolling to the bottom!)

Mystery painting of the Day at the Musee de Beaux Arts, Rouen, France

For starters, this painting was done by a famous French painter.  You have heard of this person – no trick questions here!

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It is very common for an artist’s style to change over his or her career and this is certainly the case for this painter.  Interestingly, very few examples in this style survive which is why I did such a double-take in front of the canvas.

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This is one of only a handful of staged, studio still life pieces he completed.

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Do you have a guess?

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Monet – the Father of Impressionism! Surprising, non?

Like any young artist in the mid-19th century, Monet started by copying masterworks in the Louvre and imitating the realism of the prevailing Neo-Classical and Romanticism style.  The palette is dark and the brushwork is almost hidden.  Below is another piece he completed in 1861 to give you an idea of how Monet was learning to paint.

Claude Monet, “Corner of the Studio”, 1861, Musée d’Orsay, Paris

Thankfully Monet was encouraged to work outdoors by his early mentor and noted landscape painter Eugène Boudin.  Along with like-minded painters he met in Paris, he soon began experimenting with light, color and brushwork all while en plein air.  About five years after Nature morte au faison, he painted Garden in Bloom in Sainte-Adresse and Garden at Sainte-Adresse while back home in Normandy (see below).  These radiantly colorful, soft and relaxed compositions are a radical departure from his formal education.

Claude Monet, “Garden in Bloom in Sainte-Adresse”, 1866,
Musée d’Orsay, Paris

Claude Monet, “Garden at Sainte-Adresse”, 1867, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

I have always loved when an artist’s style changes and develops over his or her career.  I like seeing how the artist thinks about a composition and experiments.  Taken as a whole, the arch of the career can be informative.

So did you guess Monet correctly, and if not, who did you think completed the “Mystery Painting”?

Every day in Ireland seemed to bring another beautiful ruin.  Each one a massive stone structure clearly whittled down by time and the encroaching flora.  King Henry VIII’s anti-Catholic purge of Ireland left hundreds of Cathedrals and monasteries abandoned to decay.  Today they remain inviting and evocative structures to explore and enjoy.  Ardfert Cathedral and Abbey is one such peaceful place.  Like many of the ruins in Ireland, we had the whole site to ourselves and had an excellent impromptu picnic there.

Coming up on Ardfert Cathedral, County Kerry, Ireland

Just North of the Dingle Peninsula and the city of Tralee is Ardfert Cathedral.  Constructed in the 11-12th century, this site is associated with Ireland’s other great Saint, Brendan the Navigator.  The otherwise large and austere Cathedral is decorated with some delicate Romanesque designs along the doorways, windows and choir column capitals. You can see how building practices improved as the left wall from the 11th century was completed without windows whereas the right wall contains nine tall lancet windows.  Crenelation, the squared edge wall topper we often associate with castles, was added along the roof line in the 15th century to form a battlement.

Facing the altar in the nave of the Ardfert Cathedral.  Note that the 11th century wall on the left does not have windows.

Ardfert cathedral window detail

Reconstructed Romanesque capital from the choir of Ardfert Cathedral. (Photo: Wikicommons)

Maybe half a mile away from Ardfert Cathedral is the 13th century Ardfert Franciscan friary situated in the middle of a green pasture.  From afar it looked very much like a Romantic Victorian painting and one poem away from going sepia toned.  I’m not exactly sure if one is allowed to climb through the ruin but we did, even though it meant passing through a few cattle gates.

Ardfert Abbey sits just behind the Cathedral in the middle of a literal cow field.

Lacking any modern reconstruction, the Abbey is still surprising well-preserved.  One wall of the 13th century Romanesque church is intact with its two registers of solid arches.  Of the 15th century cloister, one wall of the square complex remains, complete with its side rooms and arcaded walkway.

Arches along the Nave of the Ardfert Abbey chapel.

Before setting out that morning to Ardfert, we bought some smoked salmon, cheese and bread from the farmer’s market in Dingle.  Taking our incredibly fresh and delicious snacks, we climbed a small staircase to the second floor of the Cloister.  We picnicked with a fantastic birds-eye view of the Abbey chapel and Cathedral.

In the couple hours we spent at the Abbey, not a single person (or cow) came by.  We even got a break in the clouds for a little blue sky!  I think the former friars would be happy with the peace and quiet their home now enjoys.

Climbing another staircase near the entrance of the chapel, you can see the second floor of the cloister (left) where we ate lunch.

Washington DC had a very unusual earthquake about 2 years ago.  It destroyed some of the statuary at the National Cathedral and cracked the Washington Monument, an iconic obelisk-shaped landmark in the center of the city.  This summer a massive scaffold has gone up over the tower to continue the repairs.  Reconstruction and restoration are common sights for travelers where long-term improvement projects often leave facades covered and historic interiors obstructed.  You can still enjoy these sites with in most cases with minimal impact on your visit!

Restoration of the Washington Monument takes place behind an artistic scaffold.

Progress Done Right

In general, a reconstruction team is very much aware that they are essentially hiding a notable site and will take steps to accommodate the public whenever possible.  Work may be segmented so limited portions of a cathedral are covered at any one time.  I visited the Duomo of Milan in the early stages of its recent exterior restoration.  Only the lowest level was covered and there were great informational signs explaining each discreet step of the repair.

I very much like the exterior of the Washington Monument scaffolds.  Blue netting has been hung to create the illusion of blocks thereby creating a more interesting appearance than a construction zone.  It is a nice touch considering the entire structure has to be encased.  Sadly, the night-time scaffold lighting isn’t consistent with this block pattern.

Timing Is Everything

The interior of the Church of Saint-Maclou in Rouen was closed to visitors and the exterior was almost completely covered in scaffolding. Judging from this mossy gargoyle, the work is definitely needed.

To avoid disappointment, it is a great idea to check ahead for any on-going construction before planning your itinerary.  If a building is completely closed, it’s better to know early so you don’t spend time getting to a site only to be disappointed.

After Christian remodeling, crude theft and an explosion, the Parthenon is going to be undergoing reconstruction for decades.

Many of these projects are years in duration and so you will almost certainly run into on-going work.  Just remember that restoration is an important part of preserving historic landmarks and so you should take the occasional scaffolding in stride.

Rouen Cathedral in France has an intricate and beautiful sculptural facade that must be restored slowly and luckily in small pieces.

You will still find something to enjoy even if the view is a little obstructed.  Visitors to the Hagia Sophia in 2010 were probably in awe of that magnificent interior space even though ceiling repairs were underway.

The Hagia Sophia is always impressive, even with scaffolding. (Photo: Forks In the Road)

There’s always the option to revisit a site after construction is completed.  Imagine having seen the dark muted ceiling of the Sistine Chapel or perhaps its partial restoration and then visiting the incredibly colorful masterpiece today?  It would be worth another trip to Rome just to see the restorations completed.  It also helps us justify the years of scaffolding at the Vatican; to see the outcome, you know it was worth it.

Michelangelo’s “Daniel” shown before and after the major 1994-1999 restoration. (Photo: Wikicommons)

Some Things Just Have to Wait…

As much as I would have liked to see some places in my travels, construction closures have bumped some to my next trip.  Not far from Olympia is the Temple of Apollo Epicurius in Bassae, a 450 BC limestone UNESCO World Heritage.  Badly damaged by acid rain, the temple was placed under a tent in 1987 and has had limited visitor access.  Since I was never able to get opening hour confirmation and since the temple was several hours away, I decided to skip it this time.

Not a Cristos project, the Temple of Apollo Epicurius in Bassae has been enshrined in a modern protective tent for over 25 years. (Photo: Sacred Destinations, isala66)

I also really wanted to see the brilliant Byzantine mosaics of the Daphni Monastery (of Dafni Monastery) outside Athens.  Unfortunately earthquake damage has closed the site since 1999 so that was also a no-go.  In the last year, visitors have been let inside to view the on-going restoration but on a limited basis, i.e. one morning a week… maybe.  Sounds like something you will definitely need to call ahead and arrange.  I know that the outcome of these restorations is well worth the wait!

Massive restoration keeps the Daphni Monastery and its incredible decorations closed to the public. (Photo: Wikicommons)

Saint from the interior of the Dafni Monastery (Photo: ZoeCannas, TripAdvisor)

So have you ever been disappointed to see a highly anticipated treasure obstructed or closed for repair?  Or have you not minded it and still enjoyed your visit?

I liked playing “Guess the Artist” last month so I have another good one for you.

old church painting

This is an early work of a famous painter. To make it difficult, I’m not going to give you any clues! (Other than this artist has a super obvious signature which I had to cover up in the picture.)

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It is almost not fair to look at this painting online and try to guess the painter.  If you look closely in person, you can see in the minutia, traces of who this artist would later become.

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Do you have a guess yet?

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Vincent van Gogh’s “The Old Church Tower at Nuenen (The Peasants’ Counrtyard)” from the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam

Vincent van Gogh!  Known for his vibrant colors and unruly brushwork, Vincent started his career examining peasant life.  He produced this painting in 1885 as well as his famous “Potato Eaters” which uses a dark palette to highlight the bleak existence of rural farmers.

Vincent van Gogh’s iconic image of peasant life “De Aardappeleters (The Potato Eaters)” (Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam)

I was really surprised by the realism of “The Old Church Tower at Nuenen.”  The play of light off the stone tower and the smokey sky are lovely.  The subject matter, composition, and execution seems to bridge the realism and provincial subject matter of Corot’s work with the darkness and pessimism of Coubet’s peasant world.

“The Roman Campagna in Winter” by Camille Corot from 1830 illustrates the prevailing painting style for somber country scenes. (Chrysler Museum of Art, USA)

Vincent van Gogh is not know as a good draftsman.  His lines are often crooked, curvy and generally not accurate representation of the subject matter even in his small study drawings.  But in this month’s mystery painting he does a very good job of creating a solid and realistic tower.  Knowing that the tower should look as real as possible, he must have struggled to create the image.  I like looking at this painting and thinking about Vincent’s conscious effort here to copy a style.  The work must have been slowly and meticulous executed which seems light years away from his free “painting-a-day” pace at the end of this life.  Of course later he abandoned some of this rigid realism and painted churches in his own undulating way.

By comparison to the mystery painting in this post, “L’église d’Auvers-sur-Oise (The Church at Auvers-sur-Oise)” appears to be melting with its curved, undulating lines. (Musée d’Orsay, Paris)

Interestingly, early Vincent was already physically painting his own way.  Van Gogh’s works have linear strokes of color and very deliberate hash marks of parallel color.  While the church walls above are done in lines of green and yellow, they are done in muted roses and brown in the mystery painting.  If you look closely, the tower’s facade is a thickness of horizontal and vertical hashes which would have been a good clue toward Vincent Van Gogh.

Deliberate vertical and horizontal brushstrokes are a signature of Vincent van Gogh.

When the first thing you see inside a museum is a Chihuly hanging over a classical male statue, you know that you’re in for something good!

I wandered into the the Cincinnati Art Museum with no expectations.  I’d forgotten to check their collection ahead of time and I didn’t know what the special exhibits were.  I ended up having what was probably one of the funnest museum experiences I have ever had!  The programing, creative presentation of their art and friendly staff were so impressive that I left at the end day totally floored and a new fan of the Cincinnati Museum.

Brilliant Curatorial Choices

It is fairly easy to just hang art.  Where a museum proves itself is the ability of its staff to arrange and present its works in an thought-provoking way.  Earlier this year, I wrote about how San Diego’s three major art museums did a good job constructing thematic exhibits from their permanent collections.  The Cincinnati Art Museum has very creatively considered how to present their pieces which made for a really fun experience filled with a legitimate sense of discovery.

The central passage of the gallery houses the “Masterpieces” of the collection.  Each piece is dramatically spot-lit and enveloped in a cocoon of hanging black cords.  I have never seen anything like this.  Since some light passes through the forest of cords, there is a sense of intimate enclosure and isolation with the masterpiece without being in a restricted viewing stall.  Somewhat distracted by the novelty of the setting, I ran my hands through and leaned into the cords while the smiling security guard looked on.

The painting bays were shaped by hanging cords.

A forest scene by Van Gogh in the hall of masterpieces.

I loved the exhibit entitled “The Collections: 6,000 years of Art”.  Recognizing that there are lots of treasures in the collection that can’t be properly displayed, the Cincinnati Art Museum has created an “open storage” exhibit.  Two large galleries are packed with sculptures, paintings, decorative objects and furniture.  The display cases were mostly chronological and displayed on wooden crate-shaped pedestals – a nice homage to the storage theme.  The paintings are hung as mishmash of genres, periods and styles.  I loved this!  Sometimes you just want to contemplate a portrait of the Holy Family and a 20th monochromatic century study.  It’s not museum sacrilege; it can be really fun!  Signage is difficult in this type of display but it forces you to just look at the paintings and evaluated them on appearance alone, rather than named artists and historical notes.

I first saw this concept of open storage galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and I loved it there too.  I’m glad to see the Cincinnati building on that exhibit design concept.

Egyptian objects on displayed in open storage

A doge, an impressionist boating scene, country landscapes and a yellow Egon Schiele-like head with a skull.

This Roman portrait bust of Augustus would normally be stored with the accession number of the piece on a ribbon around the neck and so that is how it is displayed for “open storage”!

Contrasting paintings in the open storage exhibit, “The Collections: 6,000 Years of Art” at the Cincinnati Art Museum.

In general, the museum was very well laid out and presented.  The main collection touched a broad spectrum of Western Art.  I particularly liked a room of contemplative American paintings by Andrew Wyeth, Edward Hopper and Grant Wood.  Interspersed throughout the collection were small signs connecting a piece in the main collection to one of the masterworks in the central gallery.  The viewer was asked to compare the two pieces with some discussion questions.  My favorite pairing was a 18th century British military portrait and a statue of Shiva.

The Dutch Galleries had warm wooden paneling and flooring without being a dark space.

These mother and child paintings by (left) Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida and (right) Mary Cassatt were clearly put together on purpose.

Cincinnati is the historic home of the famous Rookwood Pottery company.  Founded in 1880, this company has produced some of the most beautiful Art & Crafts ceramics in America which still yield significant prices at auction.  It’s not surprising then that the Cincinnati Art Museum would have an excellent collection of pottery and some of the more impressive pieces created by Rookwood, plus works by other local artisans.  As someone who as always considered Rookwood a vase maker, it was great to see decorative panels for hotels and domestic commissions.

A custom Rookwood Chimneypiece commissioned for Christian & Betty Holmes in 1903.

The Spring panel from “The Four Seasons” created in 1907 by the Rookwood Pottery Company for the Grand Cafe of the Hotel Sinton in Cincinnati. In the background you can see a Miro mural in the regular museum collection.

Cincinnati Summers

The night I went to the museum it was open until 9pm as part of their summer hours.  What I didn’t realize was that summer hours entail a bit of a party.  In the center courtyard of the museum there was a modern blue-grass group playing American folk museum.  (Cincinnati does border Kentucky after all.)  There were also free snacks, a cash bar and a crowd of young professionals taking it all in.  The music echoed through the museum and created a great viewing atmosphere.  I almost felt like we’d broken into the museum and were having a party!

Event music by The Goodle Boys, an Old Timey / Americana / Bluegrass group.

The special exhibit for the summer were works by American Impressionist and Cincinnati-native Edward Henry Potthast.  His breezy, colorful beach scenes filled with children were perfect for an August evening.  Since I didn’t know this artist, I was happy to learn about a clearly talented American painter.

Beach scenes by American Impressionist Edward Henry Potthast.

If you find yourself in Cincinnati, then by all means get to the Cincinnati Art Museum!  Beside being run by smart and clearly fun people, admission is free year round thanks to several generous contributions to the museum.

I take a lot of pictures when I travel – architecture, market stalls, natural vistas, local life.  As much as I like to soak in the experience, I always like having an image to take home as a souvenir.  But like many travelers, I eventually encounter a museum or historical site that doesn’t allow photography. So why can’t I take pictures in a museum?  It may be frustrating and not really obviously why photography is prohibited, but I think it comes down to a few simple rationales.  Hopefully this explanation will give you some perspective next time you see the dreaded “No Photography” sign.

#1 – Crowd Control

Somewhere in there is the Mona Lisa (Photo: Lydie/EPA, The Guardian)

I am convinced crowd control is the single greatest cause for no photography rules!  People trying to take photos don’t pay attention to their surroundings, they jostle for position, and cause traffic jams.  Imagine if the “No Photos” rule was actually enforced at the Louvre?  Limiting photography is perhaps the only tool museums have to control the throng of daily visitors.

Not every museum has as much space as the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City

In setting up a gallery, museum curators must balance how to best display the art, how the exhibit should flow, how pieces could play off each other and then more practically, how are people going to walk through this space?  After some assumptions about the number of daily visitors and the average time a person views a piece (or masterpiece), they make some space concessions for the sake of the traffic flow.  Nothing messes up this orchestrated herd more than constant photos pauses in which everyone waits for one person to take a photo.

Belgium – Viewing Art from inside a “Box”

I’ve written about the tiny viewing room in which the Ghent Altarpiece is displayed.  In this tight space, photography is forbidden so that visitors can enter, view the piece and leave.  They’ve even forbidden tour guides from speaking in the room so that people don’t stand and linger in the cramped space.  So there I was, shoulder to shoulder and three rows deep, when the woman in front of me pulled out a camera and clicked away.  She stayed in front of the piece for a few more minutes, taking valuable viewing real estate, deleting photos so that she could take a few pictures more of the painting.  In a gallery with an unspoken rule of “take a look and then let someone else see”, she was demonstrating why photography was actually prohibited.

#2 – “The Viewing Experience”

Contemplating a Jackson Pollock’s “One: Number 31″ at the MoMA in New York City (Photo: Pete Aylward, Flickr)

Taking photos also gets in the way of appreciating the art on view.  Inevitably in every museum I visit, I see someone quickly snapping from picture to picture, getting in people’s way without really even looking at the art.  The behavior does a disservice to the “photographer” as well as to the other visitors.

No more photos of this impressive hall at the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities (Photo: Wikicommons)

There is a trend now to save visitors from themselves and institute strict no photography policies to ensure that all can enjoy and focus on the art.  Noticeably, the Musee d’Orsay has a no photography policy.  As someone who plans on spending a lot of time someday at the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities, I’m happy to see that they’ve forbidden photography.  As much as I would like to photograph details of the objects on view, I think I would rather enjoy free-flowing crowds and time to enjoy the artifacts without a camera constantly popping into my line of sight.

Visitors can enjoy the Blue Mosque in Istanbul but don’t interfere with worshipers.

I also have a lot of sympathy for no photography rules in places of worship.  No one wants flashes going off while they are praying.  Even those places that do allow photography deserve unobtrusive, quiet respect from their visitors.

Ireland – No Photography in a Cave

Newgrange, part of the prehistoric Brú na Bóinne complex North of Dublin.

Limiting photography is also the considerate thing to do sometimes.  At Newgrange, Ireland, groups of about 10 people are led down a narrow stone path to the prehistoric burial chamber at the heart of the archaeological site.  As my tour guide was getting started, one member of my group staring getting a little claustrophobic and had to move into the passageway to listen.  As we were all taking a final look at the end of our visit, I asked if I could take a photo of the stone carvings.  The guide said no.  I asked why.  “It will damage the rock,” she shot back.

Interior image of the Newgrange chamber looking toward the passageway. (Photo: UCSB)

Well obviously a flash will not harm rock – this is another case of crowd control!  Imagine flashes going off is a small, dark, enclosed space?  Even the calmest person could get a little disoriented and claustrophobic.  The flashes would also ruin the experience of being inside the cave, watching the evocative shadows play across the rough stones.

#3 – Preservation of the Art

“No Flash” is a fantastic compromise in my opinion (Photo: Rob Myers)

So maybe rock isn’t actually damaged by light but there are fragile objects that can be effected by flash photography.  Non-colorfast pigments, natural varnishes and old paper are susceptible to thousands of daily camera flashes which could hasten degradation.  Since these works are being preserved for the very long-term, museum go to great lengths to design special gallery lighting, use UV-filtering glasses and limit what viewers can do.

Colorful embroidered Normans and their horses heading to England on the fragile Bayeux Tapestry

That being said, Museum are beginning to relax the rules and posting more “No Flash” signs.  With a half-way decent camera, you can use a steady hand and a longer exposure time to capture exquisite images of very fragile works of art like the Bayeux Tapestry.

#4 – Copyright

Although you couldn’t take photos of Picasso’s “Femme au collier jaune” (my favorite piece) because it was privately owned, the image pretty much was everywhere in New York City advertising the Gagosian Gallery show.

Most works of art in museums are within the public sector or are old enough that image copyright does not apply.  However, some museums or private owners may wish to control the distribution of their image and so they have the right to forbid photography.  This is especially common for special exhibits which may have unique policies since they feature privately owned pieces and loaner works from other institutions.

One Spartan mosaic that I was allowed to photograph at the Museum there.

Interestingly, I happened across a room of ancient Roman mosaics in Sparta.  The museum attendants were adamant that no photos could be taken in the room displaying them.  I asked why and it turns out these mosaics had never been documented or published in public.  In an academic sense, they were “undiscovered” works of art.  The museum was putting together an article about the pieces and didn’t want them reaching the public beforehand.

So, hopefully that helps next time you see a “No Photography” sign.  I’m still conflicted in that I see why photography is usually banned but still really do like to take pictures when I travel.  If it’s any consolation, you can always buy some postcards of your favorite pieces.  I certainly have quite a collection….

So have you ever been to a museum with a No Photo rule and wished you could have taken pictures?

This Sculpture Garden inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City is a beautiful and peaceful space – perfect for any traveler.

I’ve been meaning to write for some time about why every trip should include art museums.  But when I read Robert Reid’s post “Are Museums Overrated?” on National Geographic’s blog, I knew it was time.  In his piece, Reid argues that Museums don’t necessarily need to be on anyone’s “To See” list – unless of course that’s your thing.  I would encourage the opposite!  Even if you’ve never been to a museum in your own community, you must visit museums when traveling.  Most travelers are skeptical about spending precious vacation hours looking at old stuff, so let me tackle some of the mental barriers for visiting museums and elaborate on the major pluses for this cultural experience.

Visiting a Museum 101

I think just made the first “museums wrong” meme, but you could probably think of lots of other examples of visitors not getting it right at a museum.

Maybe your biggest complaint about visiting museums is the tedious experience of actually visiting a museum.  I see this at every one I visit: slowly moving herds of people filing by pieces, doing a once over look and maybe snapping a picture.  Galleries are somber and visitors take on a checklist attitude feeling obligated to meander through every space.  Digital cameras & smartphones have even made the experience even more unbearable at times.   This is not how you visit a museum.

The recent “quality travel” movement advocates a deep dive into local culture for a more complete and enriching experience.  It’s the same thing with museums.  Always err on the side of quality versus quantity.  I’ve spent a full day in the Louvre, one of the most incredible museums in the world, but I didn’t come close to seeing everything.  And I’m a self-proclaimed “Art Traveler”!  It distracts from the quality of the art to pretend you are going to see it all because really, how much time does that leave you with any one piece?  Will you really notice any subtly in the characters, emotion, or its execution if you give each a passing glance?

Imagine yourself in Venice.  You might wander some of the streets then sit to watch life along the canal.  You would never force yourself to march your way through all of Venice’s streets “because you have to see it all”.  It’s the same thing in museums – just look for things you like or don’t like and most importantly make the experience your own and enjoy it.

I sometimes wonder if it is the price of museums that makes people feel obligated to see everything.  Most major international museums are $20+ which is not cheap for budget travelers.  Again, this is not a buffet where you need to eat as much food as possible for your money.  You ordered the filet mignon and it taste like Northern Renaissance Art so savor it and don’t worry if you don’t eat the baked potato that came on the side!

Get a Guide

One of these painting caused a major scandal in the Paris art world. Would you have know this walking through the galleries?

Most people prepare for travel by pouring over guidebooks, reading blogs, and talking to friends about a destination.  We do our homework and set off knowing the best local dishes, most beautiful city walks, and quintessential local markets.  But why doesn’t anyone do research about art?  We take it for granted that the museum will enrich us without even considering what we might want to see while we are there.  Why write off a museum if you yourself don’t know what’s worth seeing in it?

Luckily more and more art museums are getting savy digitally and have special suggested tours, collection highlight lists, and interactive features on-line to make planning your visit easy.  Many places connect the pieces to larger events in history and national culture so you understand the context and importance of a piece.

Granted art is not everyone’s expertise, so maybe you decided to leave the planning to the experts.  If you find yourself in a museum without any background knowledge, then take advantage of the curator tours, guides, and other written material provided for visitors.  For example, John Singer Sargent’s Madame X at the Metropolitan Museum of Art might just look like a fancy lady and you’d move on past it.  But on a tour, you’d hear about the scandalous history of this “indecent” piece and how Sargent had to repaint her shoulder strap after a public outrage.  Without realizing it, you could have walked by one of the most fantastic paintings of the Parisian art world at the turn of the century!

Art is not Passive

Francisco Goya’s “The Third of May”, Prado, Madrid. Spanish Rebels were rounded up and executed following an uprising against Napoleon’s troops which happened on the Second of May in Puerta del Sol square. (Photo: Wikipedia)

We’ve got TV, movies, and the Internet, but our ancestors had art.  Religious paintings elevated, transfixed and terrified worshipers in Europe for centuries.  Images and objects conveyed royal power everywhere from China to Peru.  Folk art captured the hopes and memories of common people.  Art is emotional.  It has power and drama, pain and pathos.  Sauntering past a painting, you don’t give it enough time to open up.

Have you ever really looked at a work of art?  Part of “art appreciation” is trying to understand the meaning and purpose of a piece.  Sure, some painting may seem cryptic and complex, but sometimes, like in Goya’s The Fifth of May or Matthias Grünewald’s Isenheim Altarpiece, the impact is immediate and visceral.

If you want to understand a little bit more about the power of art, one of the most compelling, personal stories about the emotion and importance of art comes from Monica Bowen (of Alberti’s Window) and was published on the late Hasan Niyazi’s ThreePipeProblem.  Monica was so moved  that she is now a professor of art history, but you certainly don’t have to be a professional to connect with a work of art.

Know a Culture By Knowing Its Past

Was this man a 16th century 1%-er or a hard-working middle-class merchant? Jan Gossaert’s “Portrait of a Merchant” from the National Gallery of Art, Washington DC (Photo: Wikipedia)

I’m excited about the local culture and slow travel movement.  I think every tourist should be looking for authentic experiences.  But on some level, you need to understand a culture’s past before you can appreciate its modern psyche.  Every village and city has a past that formed the buildings, people, and ways of that community.  Art is how humans have been recording their triumphs, hopes, and tragedies for centuries.  It is important to see who a people once were in order to understand them today.

For example, I think it enriches your visit to the Puerta del Sol Square in Madrid if you’ve seen Goya’s The Third of May.  If you understand that Chinese art changed little over a thousand year period, you might have something to ponder among the ultra new skyscrapers of Shanghai.  Even the Acropolis Museum in Athens sheds some light Greece’s long history of occupation and eventual independence.  Who knows what new insight you may find!

I also find it interesting to see how a culture presents its past both figuratively and literally.  The new Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam is not just an art museum.  It tells the nautical, merchant history of this small nation through maps, ship models, and other exciting objects picked up in their travel.  It’s a far more detailed and nuanced story than I ever learned in school but it is told with care by the museum about the nation’s ancestors.  The museum itself which incorporates historic and modern architectural elements and it both practical, inviting and open seems to also mimic for many how the Dutch see themselves today.

Challenge Yourself

The sunsets are humblingly beautiful from the hills around Nafplio, Greece.  This is just one of many unmissable travel experiences.

Travel itself is a challenge.  We leave our community and our comfort zone because we want new experiences.  Maybe you don’t eat horse meat at home, but when you’re in Amsterdam, why not try it?  Maybe you don’t watch a lot of sunrises at home, but you are definitely going to wake up for them in Thailand.  I am not a “beach person”, but I just got back from Tel Aviv and its incredible beach boardwalk.

We travel to see new things.  If you don’t consider yourself a museum person, at least give it a try.  For the reasons I’ve mentioned above, you should at least give yourself the opportunity to learn something or be moved by art.

Conclusions

Museums can really enrich travel and are a critical part of exploring and understanding new places.  You should see the massive Louvre in Paris, or the tiny Desmond Castle Museum in Kinsale Ireland.  But most importantly, be conscious of why you are visiting and how you are visiting any museum.  Your approach, attitude, and choices can have a huge impact on your experience.

Ultimately, I agree with Reid that we should not have a “checklist” mentality when it comes to museums.  But then again, travel should never be about checklists.  You should never do something just “to do it.”  If there is anything that is truly over-rated about travel, it is not thinking about why or how we travel.