Once in a while, we leave the tompound. On a late fall day we get in the car, drive out the road, go down-island, and take the ferry off-island (also known as going “Away”). Away, divided highways remind you that yes, there are places in the world where speed limits are higher than 40 MPH. Off we go to a city. In this case, Boston.
There are marvels in the world. One of our favorite marvels is called a “Museum”. Boston has many, and today we’re spending a little time at the Museum of Fine Arts. The MFA..
You discover, during a preparatory pit stop, that even the “necessary” is highly artistic.
In bright neon, soon after entering the museum, are some use and care instructions.
There is a special exhibit of cloth, which the wife must see.
The signmaker spouse comes along, and is rewarded.
Further along is a beaded curtain, strings of crystals twenty feet long or more, through which one must pass. On the other side is……
A sphere on the floor?
One of the great Art Traditions is artists screwing with your head. Think “DaDa”. Think “Minimalism”, in which incredible sums of money are extracted from collectors and museums for things such as a giant heap of candy from which you may take and eat a piece, a pile of a hundred thousand dead flies entombed in fiberglass resin, or a section of wall, sanded with 1200 grit sandpaper. Seeing an exhibition of such makes me feel abused, or worse. ” ‘Art’ as ‘Bullshit’ “, I grumble to myself. Reminds me of the child’s story about the Emperor and his New Clothes.
Around the corner, we encounter an object that a six year old could perhaps not have made, but I could. Out of what’s sitting around in my shop. Despite the intriguing possibilities raised, I rule out a future career in such a branch of artistic endeavor. Stick-branch-and-root furniture from the nineteenth century has far more appeal for this rustic.
Enough curmudgeonizing. The sphere on the floor was worth another look, from close up.
The guards and the art go well with each other.
We pass through another hall, or is it the looking glass?
And look up.
The musical instrument collection is always worth a drool.
And then we head home…on the road again.
Long camera exposures at night can yield serendipitous results.
Once I took a photo at my daughter’s graduation from nursing school. Only later did a certain detail get noticed.
Thanks for coming along on the museum trip. Museums sure do feed the head.