Two
weeks ago, James was in Paris to present at the International Council of Museums meeting. From Paris, he e-mailed me
about an amazing experience at a local museum. He was so blown away, and
because we all seek to blow away our visitors, I thought his reaction was worth
sharing:
First, it was about the collection. Masterful.
Second, it was about curating. Drawing me in with the masters, then introducing me to a modern artist I've never heard of, Didier Paquignon, but I loved. He really caught the light and emotion that I see in France (even though I think most of his work was done in Spain).
Pretty quickly I was impressed with the museum. But it also helped that a few museum folks were sharing their personal impressions that helped me learn more about art, which I admit to not knowing as much about as I would like.
And then...there was Monet's Les Nympheas. It's the first time I've ever really felt art. Felt it was speaking to me. Not like seeing art, or thinking about art, but felt that every single neuron was firing as soon as I turned the corner into that room. As if there was a hand that tangibly reached out to welcome me into a different world. It was respite and retreat in a way I've never experienced in a museum. The realization of everything I always hope museums could do but have never found to come together so perfectly as I experienced in that one moment. Music, marble benches, perfect diffused lighting. And the art...stunning. Now I understand why Monet's individual water lilies paintings fetch tends of millions of dollars, and why it's so wonderful that museums can keep the best of those for public enjoyment.
Granted, someone pointed out that the room is typically packed with tourists, while we had the space all to ourselves. And granted, they closed six years to get this right and have the support of a country that understands investment in culture. But I'm not someone who can sit still very well, yet I could just saunter around that room in a simultaneously blissful and stimulated state and notice endless details while transporting myself to a different state without even trying.
For me, it ranks as a top 10 wow experience, not quite even with, but on the same list as my wedding day, the days my kids were born. Just plain and simple, a moving experience.
I hope that everyone can get to experience something sort of like that in a museum at some point in their lives.
Pretty amazing, isn’t it! We all want our museums to provide these
kinds of “wow” experiences every day. And many museums do, from mini-wows
to these mind-blowing wows.
We would love to see if there is a pattern to “wow” experiences at museums.
Have you ever had one museum, one object, one exhibit blow you
away? What was it? Why do you think you were affected the way you
were? And was there anything about the physical environment that helped
make it such a moving moment?
Share your experiences by clicking on “comments” below to share. (If you
are reading this from your e-mail subscription to the blog, please go to our
blog's website
to add a comment.) Please include the name of your museum as well!
I think there is definitely a connection between "artistic" experiences and "awesome" or "memorable" experiences.
Two of my favorites would be experiencing the Diego Rivera frescoes at the Detroit Institute of Arts, and the first time I saw Shawn Lani's amazing "Icy Bodies" exhibit at the Exploratorium.
Posted by: Paul O. | June 22, 2009 at 03:40 PM
There is a silver spice box at the Museum of Jewish Heritage: A Living Memorial to the Holocaust, in Battery Park, NYC. Its body is roundish on its base. It was smuggled out of Europe by a Rabbi in his suitcase, hammered flat and hidden in the lining, to be hammered back into shape later on. I interned at MJH in the Spring of 2002, so it was already an emotionally charged time, but when the globe sculpture salvaged from Ground Zero came to Battery Park, similar in shape, and was visible from the Museum, the parallels between these two objects, both damaged and stronger as symbols of hope and faith and resilience just sort of overwhelmed me (still does)... and I later found I wasn't the only one to have had this epiphany. A staff member overheard me discussing it while giving a tour, and pulled me aside later to tell me she'd been feeling the same way... I'm sure there were many others. (Here's a link to it, by the way: http://collection.mjhnyc.org/index.php?g=detail&action=search&object_id=2853)
Posted by: Carri Manchester | June 22, 2009 at 04:02 PM
Only once have I been brought to tears in a museum ... in the immigration hall at Ellis Island.
It was 10 years ago, so it may have changed, but there was a long exhibit of stacked luggage brought by immigrants from around the world.
For me the experience was heightened by the echoes of visitors in the hall.
It was one of those weird moments in life when I was totally alone, yet surrounded by tens of thousands of people - the "ghosts" of everyone who arrived in America via NYC.
Even thinking about it now makes me shiver.
Posted by: Tom Reitz | June 23, 2009 at 08:34 AM
My biggest wow moment was seeing Picasso's Guernica in person at the Reina Sofia museum in Madrid.
The scale was just so large--and the imagery so moving. I had to sit down to gather it all in.
Unfortunately, this also led to one of my biggest downers in a museum. While seated and transfixed on this masterpiece I was yelled at by a security guard and told to stand up and move along!
Posted by: Scott | June 23, 2009 at 12:00 PM
I agree completely about the experience at the Orangerie - Monet's Les Nympheas really had the wow factor for me, and i was quite breathtaken by the atmosphere and peace in those two rooms. Didier Paquignon was a wonderful surprise at the end of a day of viewing the great expressionists, and he ha such a profound effect on me that I wandered around his exhibition in incredulous delight. I have chosen to study him for my A Level art project, but feel I can never do his work justice.
Posted by: Anna Appleby | October 07, 2009 at 04:00 PM
Anna, I'm thrilled you got to see and experience the same wonders. I hope that many others (well beyond those involved with museums or art studies) are able to have similar experiences!
Posted by: James Chung, Reach Advisors | October 07, 2009 at 04:17 PM