One of the joys of living near Boston is the access to the Museum of Fine Art in the city. From the first time I visited it in 1999 to today I have never left the building without a profound sense of gratitude. There have been days when I have entered the Museum feeling slightly peevish, a tad disgruntled, somewhat miserable, annoyed and an assortment of other petty emotions. Slowly the sentiments change. No matter what sort of day I am having, or who I am with, I find myself growing more aware of the collection of amazing articles that have found a home within the walls of the Museum.
There are cups, bowls, amulets, window shutters, teapots, paintings, masks, shoes, bowls, chairs, beds, wall hangings, silverware, ceramics, glassware, stoneware, ink drawings, photographs, dresses, musical instruments .... the list is long and wonderful in its complexity. Standing in front of a cabinet containing model boats dating back to 1200 BCE which are positioned next to models of cows and men carrying sacks of grain one has to think about the people who made the models. They are not perfect. The fact that they are wonderfully imperfect makes it possible to examine them with a sense of connection to their creators. You can see where paint has chipped off, where a figure was left with one arm slightly shorter than the other, and the person who painted the inside of the boat left a thumb print. A pair of sandals drawn on the inside of a coffin makes me smile at the thought that we still wear flip-flops that look exactly the same 3200 years later.
A shield covered in verdigris from ancient Greece is large enough to use as a tub for a small child. I can not imagine having to carry it, and the accompanying spear, into battle confronting an enemy similarly armed wondering whether any one on the battle field would ever again see their families and homes. The shield is in the same room where there are examples of the wonderful vases of Attica - the black vase paintings and the red. There are the exquisite kraters to remind us that life involved war, beauty, drinking, eating, celebrations and all the small actions that make up ordinary lives no matter when they are lived.
The paintings collected from around Europe takes you from the Middle Ages to the early twentieth century. From a painting depicting the death of John the Baptist to the twirling skirt of a Renoir I walk through rooms that remind me of how important religion was to almost every single person on a daily basis no matter what language they spoke, where they prayed or who ruled the land. The quiet beauty of a Dutch painting of flowers and fruit, a boy standing with a bowl of fruit, Millet's 'The Angelus', the amazing colours of a Van Gogh, the storms of Turner's paintings amaze me. These men and women that are shown in the paintings range from the poor to the powerful, from the beautiful to the plain in ways that elicit a response from the viewer.
Then there are the everyday artifacts from around the world. The cups and saucers, plates, cutlery, bowls and more that have been used by people long since departed. In furnished rooms into which we can look across the centuries I can imagine the servants carefully setting the table before the family enters to dine. Subdued lighting cast by candles and lamps made corners secret places to hold Austenish conversations while prime ladies took a stroll around the room.
The Museum is filled with objects and images now made precious because they have ceased to be commonplace. Some never were ordinary, some have become extraordinary, some puzzle the onlooker because I can not understand them as art but all make me think. It is the fact that I can go from room to room and never be bored, never assume that I know everything there is to know about anything that makes me return again and again to the MFA.
If there is one gift that I wish for my children and grandchildren is that of curiosity. I think the joy of museums is that they encourage us to be curious and awed. As William Arthur Ward said:
“Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning.”
Long may museums allow us to burn the candles!
No comments:
Post a Comment