To be surprised.
I avoid violence as subject matter in the arts. However, while in the African galleries at the British Museum a series of sculptures made from war detritus, including Throne of Weapons — a chair made from mostly AK47 parts — held my attention for way longer than I could have anticipated.
To be caught off guard by the unpredictable.
Munch’s The Scream at the Munch Museum in Oslo is surprisingly pale and washed out compared to reproductions. And, curiously more affecting in its muted palette.
To be charmed by the unexpected.
Known as Madonna and Child by Renaissance artist Crivelli, but now known to me as the Madonna of the Pickle. I’ll admit to a “seen one, seen ‘em all” disposition towards most Madonna and Childs until I saw Crivelli’s. Mary’s head is framed by apples on the right and this cucumber as big as her head on the left.
To be confronted with misjudgments.
Until I saw Ingres’ Princess Josephine, [etc. etc.] in the Lehman Collection at New York’s Metropolitan Museum, I dismissed neoclassicism as aesthetically and stylistically inferior. Not anymore.
To be mesmerized.
Sargent’s Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose displayed at London’s National Gallery faces a comfortable bench. I sat captivated over multiple visits for at least 20 minutes each time.
To notice continuities and discontinuities in one’s taste.
Still dislike El Greco paintings (actually, I think he’s an incompetent painter excused for being mannerist), admire Barbara Kruger’s work, albeit less so than I used to, the Hudson River School has gained in my esteem with time, and I’m no longer a fan of 60’s minimalism.
To dialogue silently with artists from another time and place.
True for every work that holds my attention.
To experience art as a common language with strangers from across the world.
At the Art Institute of Chicago’s Tiffany windows, I noticed two friends dissatisfied with their efforts at taking a selfie. I don’t speak Arabic, and they didn’t speak English, nonetheless I offered to take their photo. Because they liked the first photo I took, they enthusiastically gestured for me to take several more as they posed in various places near the windows and across the Grand Staircase — all the while we shared smiles and laughter.
To leave feeling better about the world.
Being in an art museum is witnessing cosmopolitanism* in action.
To support venues for emerging artists.
Like Priory’s Bosco Zun, David Swallow, Simon Lin, and Alex Bader.
Canhavato, Throne of Weapons, 2002. On display in the British Museum.
Zun, Fragile Dinner, 2025. On display in the McNamee Gallery at St. Louis University.
* – the idea that all human beings, regardless of their political affiliation, are (or can and should be) citizens in a single community, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy
