I know just the place. The Philadelphia museum of art is finishing up an exhibit called , Van Gogh: Up Close.- which focuses on the work he did in the last four years of his life.
To say that the show is a crowd pleaser would be an understatement. The crowds are huge and enthusiastic. This is one of those exhibits where you need a separate ticket , apart from your general museum entrance. I got mine a week in advance and the slot I got was the absolute last half hour on a Saturday afternoon. The museum closes at five, but for the duration of the Van Gogh they stay open until seven.
About a dozen years back, there was an Exhibit of Van Gogh portraits in Washington DC at the national gallery- same deal huge crowds, sold out. I drove down to see that, but without a ticket, last weekend of the show. I had to do some of my best begging/whining/cajoling/pleading to get in. I got in, when push comes to shove, I am an excellent beggar/whiner/cajoler/pleader.
A few days before I went to Philadelphia I read an article and the author was making the case that Van Gogh was wildly overrated , that most people feel under the romantic spell of the misunderstood genius who never sold a painting. I have to admit that there is a bit of that- most people whether they know his work or not, know that he's the guy with the ear. (or more precisely, without the ear)
The writer goes on to say (and shame on me I don't remember the writers name) that most reproductions of Van Gogh's paintings are poor and make the colors brighter and more vivid.= people like the reproductions more than the actual paintings.
Hmmmmm. I can remember the first time I saw "Starry Night" at the museum of Modern Art, I was walking around looking at the paintings and saw a crowd half up the gallery , as I got closer I saw what all the hub bub was. "Oh, a famous painting" So I stopped and i looked.....and stood there for 10minutes. This thing was like an electric charge buzzing on the wall. Those thick brush strokes, swirling in the sky, the-whatever the hell that tree thing is in the left foreground- totally dominating that left side. I kept inching closer until I was nearly on top of it- each of those brush strokes are alive, strong and deliberate.
In the Philadelphia show there is a room of landscapes,where the horizon line is up near the top of the canvas- these feature a combination of blue and yellow paint that is absolutely remarkable. I don't know what reproductions that writer has been looking at, but nothing compares to seeing the originals up close.
Since I was in the last group of the day,I moved forward with the crowd, caught up in the tide, but after a while Iwalked back a bit and now had some room to sit and ponder what I was seeing.I know that it's mostly because I know a bit about his life, but when you look at his work you can definitely see his passion, his desperation in his work.
Of course the exhibit empties into the gift shop. Hey,you have to make a dollar, I don't begrudge a museum selling souvenirs- I've always liked souvenirs......I resisted----okay I bought a few postcards and a paperback copy of his Letters. I already had a copy of his letters at home, but I needed to sit down in my hotel room later and read while the images were still fresh in my head.
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As an extra bonus- the Philadelphia museum has a few rooms dedicated to none other than Marcel Duchamp. A few years back I had a total 100% immersion into his work- you have to love an artist (hell anybody)with a sense of humor. The Bicycle wheel ( a readymade) is one of my favorite pieces of all time. The crown jewel of their collection is an odd, sculpture/installation called Etannt Donnes- you walk in the room and there in a pair of wooden doors,get a little closer, there are a few gaps in the wood, get real close and look through the door and you see............ I'll let you take a trip to Philly and see for yourself.
He worked on Etannt Donnes for 20years! In secret! Everyone thought he had retired, but he had one last piece to finish, which he gave to the Philadelphia Museum, but they had to wait until he was dead before they could exhibit it.
cest la vie
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