I have a confession to make. I huff paint. I'm sorry mom - but you knew this was coming. Remember the Van Gogh exhibit when I was 11? Do you remember the security guard dragging me from Van Gogh's sunflowers because my nose nearly inhaled the painting, frame and all? Of course you do. This should hardly come as a shock. So as I stood in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, gazing at Van Gogh's "Vase of Roses" you undoubtedly can imagine the look on my face. It was look of bliss I reserve only for impressionist paintings and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...I really like Michelangelo, teenage ninja and Renaissance painter/sculptor.
It's hard for most people to realize how I adore art. I doubt you will understand fully after reading this, but perhaps you may gain a sliver of insight into my soul. When you immerse yourself in paintings, and the artists who render them, you are investing yourself in an array of expressionism. If you study well a fine piece of art, you will discover fine literature, engrossing theater, political dissertation, and social commentary. All art also tells the story of it's creator. The artist's give you insight into their lives that cannot be found in any book or journal.
Those stories, and the accompanying psychological messages command my eyes and my mind.
They are the reason I spend hours just staring, awestruck and enamored of the images before my eyes. This love affair of mine is not reserved for a certain genre either. Whether, Matisse or Monet. Renoir or Rembrandt, I embrace them all with equal jubilation.
Now, perhaps you're skeptical. C'mon Mike, you can't tell me that this (below) tells a story.
Well, believe it or not - and you best believe it, this painting is extraordinary. With the help of a chemist the artist created a unique color red, which he believed conveyed the angst of society today. The white line symbolizes hope, the hope that we can change.
Don't leave! Don't commit me! Perhaps I'm asking to much of you to accept that one white line against a permeating red background is exquisite art. But you cannot, CANNOT argue that this is not one of the greatest paintings rendered:
I could have stood before Jackson Pollock's "Full Fathom Five" for an unfathomable amount of time. You can feel Pollock's angst, anger, and aggression. We have all felt the emotion expressed in Pollock's work. Perhaps not so vividly in blacks, grays, and yellows but nevertheless we've all been so conflicted.
That day, I walked from the MET to the Museum of Modern Art, back to the MET, in a time that spanned over nine hours. Nine of hours savoring a slice of art pie. Give me a slice of Monet, sprinkled with a pinch of Cezanne, some Titian and Goya on the side, washed down with a thick glass of Rembrandt. Delicious.