Metropolitan Museum

The Metropolitan Museum is, in a word, overwhelming. I don't mean that in a negative way, but in a sense that the collection and the building itself are massive. This was not my first time at the Met, yet I still felt like I could never absorb or process the amount of art the Museum contains. The building is a huge, church-like edifice with multiple wings, lofty arches, and Neo-classical architecture.

Upon entering, your backpack is examined and you can then purchase a ticket or check your things. You are not allowed to check your bag if it has electronics in it (my bag had my IPad in it so I was not allowed to check it). If you keep your bag you must, understandably, hold the bag in front of you while you walk through the museum so as not to inadvertently knock over a multi-million dollar Roman bust in your wanderings. Holding my bag throughout was distracting, so I recommend not bringing a bag (with devices you don’t want to carry in it) with you if you visit the museum.

The layout of the museum is logical if you look at it on the free maps that the Met provides. When you actually start walking through, however, it becomes confusing and maze-like. Normally I would just wander through a gallery or museum at random, but in light of this assignment and the size of the Met, I picked up a map. The map helped me to recognize the connections between the mezzanine spaces that were extensions of the exhibits on the ground floor. The ground floor exhibits also have adjacent rooms which are not clear in their relation and lead to non-linear navigation through the museum. Overall, the museum is fun to explore if you have a significant amount of time or if you aren't looking for anything specific. Otherwise I would get a map and refer to it frequently.

The exhibits themselves are presented in a myriad of ways. I was observing the space itself more critically this time around, as well as the overall layout and presentation of the works. Different lighting schemes, wall colors, and arrangements abound. Small decorative works in the French Renaissance, for example, were presented in a dark room with the objects spot lit. Some rooms were arranged as they would be in life. I particularly enjoyed the Roman Cubiculum Nocturnum (bedroom) arrangements, with the wall frescos displayed as they would be in an actual Roman bedroom. Wall colors were generally neutral or complimented the work displayed; lots of off-white and cream colors for Greco-Roman, warmer tones for the African, Oceanic, and Pre-Columbian Art. My favorite feature of the Met is the glass ceilings that appoint several galleries. The sun beaming down illuminating Greco-Roman sculpture while a fountain trickles in the center of the room creates a garden-like atmosphere which is stunning. In this area I was drawn to the fragmented sculptures.

Due to the size and scope of the Met, I did a more cursory examination of most of the work then I would normally do. I went through the ancient art sections relatively quickly, while spending more time looking at the Modern Period as well as the Arms and Armor that they have on display. I tend to look at the work first, examine it, and then read the information on the label. I enjoy putting the work into a context but only after having a visceral reaction. In a museum of this size I was drawn to work initially by the shape, color, or other distinctive features..

My analysis of the work on display varied depending on what I was looking at. With ancient work I would make predominantly stylistic, formal, and historical observations, while more modern art gets a blend of all four modes of analysis. With the sheer volume of work on display, a majority of my observations were stylistic in nature. Only when I stopped for a piece that particularly interested me would I get more in depth. 

I chose this painting by an artist that I was not familiar with to do the "Close Looking" exercise. This work is by Kay Sage entitled "Tomorrow is Never" (1955, oil on canvas). This painting grabbed me immediately. The atmosphere is dismal with this feeling of smothered hope. The scaffolding around these cryptic buildings jutting up through the smoke filled sky is some indication of repair or rebuilding, but the surrounding tone is almost suffocating. Formally it is representational in a surrealistic way, with clean brush strokes and a grey scale color pallette with accents of brown and blood red. Historically Kay Sage was a prominent American Surrealist that was married to another favorite artist of mine named Yves Tanguy. Upon closer examination, there is a lone smoke stack in the distance that is free of scaffolding. This feature, combined with the obscured buildings or statues is mysterious and intriguing. I later read that the work represented feelings of entrapment and dislocation, which is definitely felt in her work.

It was enlightening to visit the Metropolitan Museum with some observational guidelines. I looked at the building, the presentation, and the works themselves with a different perception then i would as a casual observer. It was a valuable experience.