I love to travel and I love to see new art
when I travel, and it seems I’m not the only one. In this blog post are the
answers to the May/June contest question, “What was your best art experience
while travelling?”
I was amazed at the detailed answers I got, the question seemed to stir up the wonderful trip memories. Emi wrote
that she made the subject the topic of a dinner conversation and I got three
great entries as a result.
Some people had their best encounters with
art in Europe, where treasures of art exist both inside and outside the
museums.
Amy wrote:
My best art experience while traveling was my very first art experience
while traveling--and maybe my first real art experience ever (I don't count
being dragged to art museums during field trips, because no one ever pays
attention during field trips). My sister was studying abroad in Spain during my
junior year of high school, and I went to visit her for two weeks. It was my
first big solo trip traveling anywhere at all, and I was excited to go to
Europe. My sister and I spent several days in Madrid, and she took me to the
Prado, Reina Sofia, and Thyssen museums. While I was just wandering aimlessly
around the Prado, not really sure what I was looking at because I was just
seventeen and surrounded by surrealism, I saw Máxima Velocidad de la Madonna de
Rafael. I loved it because it was like I was looking at Raphael's painting,
except it had been painted over with some blues and some spheres of other
colors. For me, it was the perfect mixture of the realism in Renaissance
paintings with something new, bright, and different. I must have looked at that
painting for at least ten minutes, trying to absorb every detail and facet of
it. I bought a postcard of the painting in the gift shop and tucked it away inside
my photo album of memories from that trip to Spain. Every once in a while, I'll
pull it out and look at the image again, and I find it as equally mesmerizing
as I did then--almost ten years later.
Salvador Dali, Máxima Velocidad de la Madonna de Rafael |
Emi wrote:
I was visiting the Czech Republic where a girlfriend
of mine worked for Mitsubishi Steel in Prague in 1994. We went north of Prague
into the countryside. The countryside was populated with razed denuded
mountains that had been mined but the place we visited was pastural. We visited
a former film-maker and his wife who host a sculpture event annually where
people gather and created installations that take advantage of the natural
landscape. For example, creating sculptures and patterns from the earth and
metal sculptures through which through the woods behind could be admired -
pieces that integrated natural landscapes and were intended to make a counter
statement to the destruction of the nearby exploited natural environment. It
was fascinating to walk around and admire these sculptures, some of which were
naturally decaying with time. Down the road, we came upon a wonderful glass
exhibit in an art gallery, which had formerly been a castle. It seemed amazing
to find such a rich exhibit in the middle of an isolated countryside. My mother
had just begun working with glass in Japan and I was keen to appreciate the
medium better. The gallery was called Klenova Castle and is located in
Janovice. It is apparently one of the most famous art galleries in the Czech
Republic now. Later that night, we wanted to watch a world soccer cup game but
there were few pubs or restaurants in the area and they were closed. We could
see a few tv screens in private homes. Instead, we sat with glasses of wine and
our host shone film spotlights onto the trees above us, creating beautiful
shadows, natural entertainment, and art.
PW wrote:
Seeing Guernica at the Reina Sofia in Madrid made me think differently
about the power of art to create cultural touchstones. The painting was
constantly surrounded by a crowd about 50, almost all of them Spaniards. People
would look on in respectful silence for a few minutes and then move on. They
already knew what the painting meant because their parents and grandparents had
lived through those terrible times. It was if they weren't looking in order to
understand the painting but instead were using it as a reminder of what can
happen when we lose our capacity for empathy. I think that this kind of secular
worship gives a culture a moral foundation that surpasses any flag waving or
anthem singing.
Picasso, Guernica |
Some people love to travel and find local
artists, then bring home art as a lovely souvenir of their trip. Souvenir in French means to remember, and
what better memory of a trip could there be than an artist’s vision and your
remembrance of meeting the artist?
Caroline wrote:
Sometimes you can find the most beautiful things where you don't expect
them. So my best art experience isn't a famous one. When visiting The Forbidden
City I encountered a local artist who spent his days painting there. I was
struck by a painting of a detail of a gate, a handle shaped like a dragon head.
I ended up buying it.
I don't travel much unfortunately but whenever I travel and something catches my attention I buy it. On a trip to Wales I bought a lithography which depicts the local beach, by coincidence the one I visited, covered in snow. The first snow that part of Wales had seen in years. They're better memories than pictures to me.
I don't travel much unfortunately but whenever I travel and something catches my attention I buy it. On a trip to Wales I bought a lithography which depicts the local beach, by coincidence the one I visited, covered in snow. The first snow that part of Wales had seen in years. They're better memories than pictures to me.
Liz wrote:
Oh this is easy ;). While traveling in
Italy years ago I found out there was a little gallery in Vernazza. We ventured
upon it after hiking the Cinque Terre and found the owner to be a most charming
gentleman. To this day, the paintings that I purchased from him are my favorite
reminders of his gorgeous little town and our trip to Italy with our kids years
ago. Those are the paintings that I would retrieve first if God forbid my house
was burning!
Others found inspiration closer to home, back here in North America.
James wrote:
When I was on duty in Ranklin Inlet in 1983 as a peace
officer, I watched Adam Totalik sculpt soapstone carvings. I realize now I
should have bought a sculpture but hesitated at the time because they were $90
apiece!
I also remember watching a group of 10-12 men
sculpting wood figurines (elephants, giraffes, zebras) for 45 minutes while in
Namibia, Africa. They were quietly focussed, occasionally sharing a joke he
didn’t understand. I enjoyed the energy of their purposeful work and watching
the sculptures take shape.
Eiko wrote:
In 1961, when I first came to the US from Japan, I saw
a Thai art exhibit in the Seattle Museum of Art. It was not the exhibit that
was significant but who I met. I was introduced to another woman, who was going
to go to the same school with her and we hit it off right away. Marion and I
fast became best friends and were roommates at Yale School of Design.
Marianne P. wrote:
I have had so many unforgettable art experiences abroad but the one that
comes immediately to mind is one I had close to home in Victoria at the Gallery
there. I found myself completely alone in the little room devoted to Emily
Carr. As I looked at her work and read the information I found myself in a
complete state of emotional overwhelm. I was grateful to be alone as if anyone
had peered in they would have observed me with tears streaming down my face. I
suddenly had this deep feeling of understanding. That's really the only way I
can describe the experience. It was so profound. Oddly enough, when I was much
younger I was always very uncomfortable around her work as it evoked a feeling
of fear and dread in me. Now 35 years later I feel a quiet sense of wonder.
Emily Carr, Dream Picture |
Thank you for sharing these lovely and thoughtful answers. From a random
draw, the winner is Amy, congratulations.
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