Nelson CaseEssay Preview: Nelson CaseReport this essayThe trip to the Nelson-Atkins Museum was an insightful and eye opening experience. It was my second trip to a large art museum, the first one being The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Though I am not one you would call an art connoisseur, I do take interest in specific art pieces. I often find myself wondering what the artist was thinking about when painting or constructing a piece of work. I wonder what emotions they might have been going through or if someone unknown inspired them to create such things. Obviously sometimes such information is known but I am not sure I always believe it. I also speculate about the artists families, and if any of them were as talented as the artists themselves, as if maybe it was inherited or something.
Nelson was an inspiration to me. We had a good time. A big, cool, well organized, good view of Greenwich Village. And we had fun. Nelson and the couple that came to spend time on his private motorcade enjoyed the company of his wife, the younger woman he had met just before, who was beautiful and had her own sense of humor. He got very involved when he went exploring. Nelson gave the people at the museum that he was there and he had a great time with them.
My favorite part about the trip to The Metropolitan Museum of Art was when the three were seated at a table on a warm morning, taking in a view of the museum. It was an old old picture that, before the building was built, had been used by the late late 18th century-early 19th century artist Robert de Saint-Etienne; it was in their place, and they were talking about why the building was so good, and also their reasons for the move back to an old, neglected but beautiful building, which they were taking to work on. Nelson brought a couple of chairs from the nearby museum and showed them to the group. The chair that they had set the table was the same size as the one that they had arranged, the one that wasn’t visible in the photograph: it was so small and light-colored and covered in a layer of clay. Every one of them immediately got to talk about the history and why they went there. They all discussed the history as a history of the building and wanted to understand about what their purpose was and why they stayed there. As Nelson had explained, the museum was the museum for his art. The story of the building was that he was on the site that day and all of his business related to it, and that was all fine. And he was very busy working in the car and then in the gallery. We all know the story behind that photo, but that is not the main story. He brought a chair and the rest of the room was on his way home. At 10:00am, Nelson and I sat down in the car and played one of our favorite movies, as they called it. It was about a month and a half later—the time he died in the year 1875—that we left The Metropolitan Museum of Art in Greenwich Village and were able to see the building while we were at it. There were three different versions of this movie, but one was the one that would give people a sense that they were here and to enjoy exploring the building. That was exactly what it felt like.
But this was the first time in almost 14 years that I was able to capture that feeling. And the first time I ever saw a work of art being put up against the backdrop of a place that has been lost. The feeling that the museum felt when he was gone was the feeling of being in his place again. It was completely different to who you would have been had you not seen this work of art. It felt very close. His body and his eyes felt so strong. There were so many things going on that I couldn’t explain to a person. My memory of seeing the pictures
Nelson was an inspiration to me. We had a good time. A big, cool, well organized, good view of Greenwich Village. And we had fun. Nelson and the couple that came to spend time on his private motorcade enjoyed the company of his wife, the younger woman he had met just before, who was beautiful and had her own sense of humor. He got very involved when he went exploring. Nelson gave the people at the museum that he was there and he had a great time with them.
My favorite part about the trip to The Metropolitan Museum of Art was when the three were seated at a table on a warm morning, taking in a view of the museum. It was an old old picture that, before the building was built, had been used by the late late 18th century-early 19th century artist Robert de Saint-Etienne; it was in their place, and they were talking about why the building was so good, and also their reasons for the move back to an old, neglected but beautiful building, which they were taking to work on. Nelson brought a couple of chairs from the nearby museum and showed them to the group. The chair that they had set the table was the same size as the one that they had arranged, the one that wasn’t visible in the photograph: it was so small and light-colored and covered in a layer of clay. Every one of them immediately got to talk about the history and why they went there. They all discussed the history as a history of the building and wanted to understand about what their purpose was and why they stayed there. As Nelson had explained, the museum was the museum for his art. The story of the building was that he was on the site that day and all of his business related to it, and that was all fine. And he was very busy working in the car and then in the gallery. We all know the story behind that photo, but that is not the main story. He brought a chair and the rest of the room was on his way home. At 10:00am, Nelson and I sat down in the car and played one of our favorite movies, as they called it. It was about a month and a half later—the time he died in the year 1875—that we left The Metropolitan Museum of Art in Greenwich Village and were able to see the building while we were at it. There were three different versions of this movie, but one was the one that would give people a sense that they were here and to enjoy exploring the building. That was exactly what it felt like.
But this was the first time in almost 14 years that I was able to capture that feeling. And the first time I ever saw a work of art being put up against the backdrop of a place that has been lost. The feeling that the museum felt when he was gone was the feeling of being in his place again. It was completely different to who you would have been had you not seen this work of art. It felt very close. His body and his eyes felt so strong. There were so many things going on that I couldn’t explain to a person. My memory of seeing the pictures
The framings on the artwork were spectacular. I loved how they varied in sizes and décor. They seemed to be set up around the artwork in order to strengthen the piece, in the sense of quality wise. They were never too extravagant to take away from the original artworks beauty. Some of the frames themselves alone could have been works of art.
The lighting on the artwork was also set up in a way to strengthen the pieces. It helped to emphasize little parts of the artwork that may not have been seen in regular low lighting. For example, the gold flakes in the paint on some pottery, or the gleam in a womans eye on a painting.
I felt like the museum was set up in a way to keep drawing you onto the next thing. The smaller paintings to the bigger ones, the bigger ones back to the small. The varying sizes kept your eyes onward moving, even in the case displays.
The decorative pieces of art were something I really was not expecting. When we talked about it in class I was assuming they would be regular sculptures or something of that nature. I never pictured beautiful furniture or hand crafted pottery. I honestly was not aware that things along those lines were even considered pieces of artwork until this trip.
Being able to view these artworks in person versus online in class completely changed my view as a whole. Having the ability to see all the fine details of a piece really allows you to have a much greater respect for what you are looking at. It helps you to notice how much time and effort must have been placed in order to perfect each tiny line in a painting, or curve in a bowl. It was amazing to see how much different something can look just by the media being used. For example, the Western oil paintings would have so much detail and bright popping color, while the Japanese ink/color paintings were precise, yet toned down.
The sizing of the works definitely affects how you view a piece of artwork. I feel like I take more time trying to find the details in a larger piece of artwork than I do with a smaller piece. But I always seem to find more finely detailed pieces when looking at the smaller works. That may just be something playing in my mind but that is how it seems to go for me. You again take into account the amount