"I know, I know Mia. Let's go before you have to go back to school"
I was referring to The Phillips Collection's Degas exhibit. It had been a while, if ever, the collection on display would ever be in the United States. I mean, other than the fact that once upon a time I danced and I'm obsessed with Impressionist art, this was a do or die situation. I had to go. (http://www.phillipscollection.org/)
But seriously.
A metro ride in and a light lunch at a local coffee shop beforehand rendered us primed for our adventure.
I picked up a map and squinted my eyes with skepticism while holding it far away from my face.
"How are we going to tackle all of this in four hours?" My voice whined. My brother is the optimist of the two of us.
"I'm sure we can, let's ask this guide here," who with seasoned elegance described the layout of the building and mentioned there were certain rooms 'we could not miss', including the Degas exhibit.
So we set out to absorb the museum with fervored determination from top to bottom floor.
I'm not sure which was my favorite, interpreting the pieces or relating them to their historical significance.
Or maybe it was recognizing over half the pieces in there by artist and time period, like revisiting old friends. A strong nostalgia welled up within me as I remembered summers of pouring over scores of art books with my brother and museum visits with my father as a small child. This was my childhood, and I relived those emotions of wonder and juvenile abandon that cold January afternoon.
"WAIT, THE ROTHKO ROOM!" I squealed, a bit too loudly. My brother smiled. From our studies, I assumed it would only look like blocks of paint on a canvas.
"People get paid to do this?" Eight year old me exclaimed in disbelief. I was determined to make my charcoal/ watercolor pursuits into a career. But on subsequent revision in the Rothko room, I felt the hallowed presence of those four canvases. And up close, the paint textures and how they were illuminated on the canvas renderd me breathless. The silence quieted me, as though I were present in a church.
Midway through our adventure we happened upon the Degas exhibit.
There are a few things that have taken my breath away in my short lifetime: seeing my first shooting star, saying "I love you" and meaning it, New York City, those transformative moments when I model, placing in my first and last timed race in high school, and dancing while watching the sun rise.
Well seeing Degas in person was right up there.
I guess it would be like seeing a celebrity in person. Or the love of your life.
Your heart races with familiarity but at the same time you're so overwhelmed you have no idea what to do with the sentiment.
But the coolest part about this exhibit was I recognized all of my friends here, and even met new ones.
When my brother visits a museum, he always gets me a little something for me to enjoy. And 15 year old me had a replica of this statue from the Tate I believe. The original was also on display:
On display were his 'unfinished' works as well as another collection of his expertise: horses. Another favourite of mine.
And then there was a short excerpt from "The Nutcracker" to help put things in perspective. It brought back memories. I may just have to go buy a pair of pointe shoes and "get back on pointe". So punny.
And then The Luncheon of The Boating Party;
Unlike the Mona Lisa, it was much larger than I anticipated. And after seeing it in books 100s of times and now finally seeing it person, I never realized there was a dog on the table. Mom always freaks out that there was a man in a tank top in the corner, but wait till I bring up the dog on the table (Note to the reader: My mother is somewhat of a puritanical conservative)
Well, in light of my remembering impressionist art and Monet, I'll visit my favorite writing spot on campus and watch the water lilies and get some work done.
And listen to one of my favorites:
Claude Debussy: Prelude to the Afternoon of the Fawn
Till soon, much love:
Soufa <3
