One of the many keys to my heart:
My friend, Glenda blogged about "falling into a work of art," and has inquired about other people's experiences.
"So, what about you? Have you ever "fallen into a work of art with all of your being?" Do you ever connect with a piece without knowing anything about it? Have you ever initially rejected a work as junk only to fall in love with it later? Tell me... I want to know."
My dear, Glenda:
When the Impressionists tour came to Houston a couple of years ago, I was, of course, ecstatic! The Impressionists have always held a special place in my heart; and MY GOD, to get a chance to see original works of "the greats." -- I was beside myself (ask Rhonda). An entire wall/separate area had been constructed solely for displaying the complete layout of Monet's, Water Lilies. The canvases were displayed so that each had its own wall; and the walls were arranged in an angled fashion (like the bottom half of a stop sign). Standing at the center of the display and looking in gave me the sense of being hugged by the water lilies. I actually laid down on the floor and just. stared. It was so wonderful I almost forgot to breathe. I cannot tell you how incredible that work is in person -- you do not realize the detail and depth it loses in prints until you see the Water Lilies tangibly. That day and that moment will always be with me.
When I was little I spent many summers in art camp. And every session, we would go on a field trip to the MFAH. This was when MFAH was only the one, small (compared to the new construction) building, and the works of the contemporary artists were always on display upstairs, at the front-half of the building. As a child, the contemporary artists were my favorite. I always remember falling into such awe of the pieces these artists were capable of producing. Some of them were more than just paintings. They were re-creations, which as someone who always LOVED making "something" out of "something else," were absolutely captivating to me. I remember one work by a female artist from Houston (if memory serves me correctly) that was a sculpture of boxes and cubes. She used metal, wood, cardboard, wiring, plaster, paper, paint, cloth and God knows what else. And the way in which she assembled these items made an impact on me. I didn't need to read the plaque to understand what the artist wanted me to feel. I loved that. There was so much to take in that I could have stood there for hours; but I was on a field trip and consequently had to move on with the group. I don't know what happened to that piece after its showing in MFAH. I was about eight-years-old at the time. I'll probably never see it again, but I'll always remember it and how it made me feel. THAT is the work of a good artist!
I cannot say that I have ever rejected a work of art to later fall in love with it. Any works of art that I have "written-off" are just that. I respectfully give careful consideration to any works that make me want to throw pointy objects at the curator. I am well aware that there are many pieces in this world that I am simply never going to understand. However, there are also some works of "art" in this world that are utter crap; and I wholly resent the artists that get those works shown in a gallery or museum. In the end, I do not hate a lot of artwork. It takes a great deal of talent (or lack there of, really) to induce a loathing from within my creative apprehension. And after sitting here thinking about it, I can resurface the memory of only one exhibit that induces a slight amount of seizing... and maybe some vexed slurring in the general direction of the artist's answering machine...
I'm sure you remember the Thornton Dial exhibit you, Rhonda and I went to see when you came to H-izzle for a visit. That exhibit was so incredible that we were all emotionally exhausted and starving the moment we stepped away from the final piece. Aside from reading an article about Thornton Dial in the Press a couple days before our journey to MFAH, I knew nothing about the artist. And now... I look back on his works as a source of inspiration, insight and courage.