What I think of museums
Hôtel de Ville, Paris. I like this photo because it symbolises that people come from all walks of life. One way to bring people together is to simply put on a show of bubbles. :)
Listen to me read this here.
Museum map and brochure in hand, I stand before many famous artworks that I’ve only seen in textbooks and movies. As I weave through museum room to room, my mind flutters from thought to thought. Occasionally, my feet plants and my hand involuntarily twirls the wisps of hair behind my back, just trying to imagine the life of the artist or the subjects in the painting. What was their life like? Look at that color of the background, it’s so striking. That woman is beautiful! That man is so weird looking! I take a step and lean forward to observe the chiaroscuri and sfumatos. Light, shadow, line, pattern, movement or none. I feel it. I die of arduous passion, but I am saved by the formality of clean white walls, 21st century alarm-triggered wire, and the bustle of museum-goers. Only a human, I feel as if I am a bird wanting to fly, but I am tamed in a cage. From a distance and sane mind, the paintings, jewelry, sculptures beckon me and take me away from this century. Whether it be the two dimensional or three, the calamity of a storm, the suffering of an angel, the menace of an army, the sly look of a whore, I like to think I am familiar with these themes of life. I can relate or strive to understand them, and that’s all I can truly say is what art should ought to make you do. Feel something.
I can never look art the same again. I can never look at people the same again. During a BlaBlaCar ride (similar to an Uber carpool but from city to city and cheaper) to Nice, France, I met a guy who challenged the way I see things. At first, he was too talkative to listen to. And I was annoyed and too hard-of-hearing to make an effort.
But after an hour of music and napping, I decided to whip off my earphones and have a listen to the outside world. And…I gave him the short talk. “Bonjour. Comment vas-tu? Ah, pas mal. Merci..” (Hello. How are you? Not bad, thanks..) After all, being stuck with strangers in a steel and glass box for 5 hours, even with a language barrier, you’ll have to eventually talk about the weather and beat around the bush. I learned that he studied about museums and would one day be a curator or conservator. He listed out his favorite museums from all over Europe. Then, I realized that there is a profound love and dedication towards conserving our own creations. We go to museums to see what humanity is capable of, what they’ve done—inherently good and bad, and to reflect on our choices we make everyday. We don’t have many museums dating back to ancient times back in the States. I usually go to the Harry Ransom Center on campus during my class-breaks to wind down and appreciate the progress of humanity. And oh, how little does the HRC offers compared to hundreds if not thousands of museums from all around the world. I quickly ascertained that what I knew was only a tiny fraction of humankind’s history. The United States is such a young country. Europe in general has history that goes way back to the ancient Roman times. Even in cities, rubbles and ruins have braved extreme weather, witnessed the fall of many civilizations and empires, and housed famous poets and philosophers from centuries ago.
In Lyon, France, there is a museum called the Musée Gallo-Roman which is situated under the hill of Old Lyon. Right beside it is a theater made out of stone steps which was found just recently in the 1980s by a Lyonnaise farmer. For centuries, over the Crusades, the Revolution, the World Wars, it remained unknown and forgotten under a vineyard. When found, it was excavated and the property has been then a UNESCO Heritage Site.
Sometimes, the things we take pride in seem to be ironic. People talk about the European expeditions and the triumph of colonialism, but hardly ever the genocides and massacre of aboriginals. At one point, the French certainly did not like Marie Antoinette, but today she’s a beloved icon. At some time, that stone theatre hosted many public executions of poor prisoners, but today they use it for music venues and festivals. The past is the past. We are naive to think of the past. I’m not sure whether to end this paragraph and pose this as a cautionary tale of human ignorance or as a statement of freewill saying that we have the power to perceive things the way we want. But I urge us to not turn a blind eye to history. Looking back at the timeline of human progress, I stand proud of our achievements and failures, but I am wary of the happenings of the past. We must look beyond our creations to understand what we can make the most out of life.
Two rooms of the Musée Gallo Romain with large windows jut out from underneath the hill.