Yesterday, my father, Lorraine, and I went to the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, Massachusetts. We saw two exhibits: The Unknown Monet is an exhibit of Monet's pastels and drawings that suggests that, despite his impressionist title, he sometimes prepared for large works with sketches and small paintings (it's worth reading about, and browsing the sketchbooks online is fairly interesting). The second show was eighteenth and nineteenth century British art from the newly acquired Manton Collection. Well known artists included are Gainsborough, Constable and Turner.
The Monet exhibit attempted to give visitors, from artists who know about his life (Dad) to laymen like me, some insight into his creative process. By beginning with caricatures he copied and created himself when he was young and ending with some of his famous paintings (at least two waterlilies), the exhibit demonstrated his growth as an artist. Sketchbooks and small paintings showed Monet's method of visualizing subjects and elements of paintings in advance (Bazille and Camille (Study for "The Luncheon on the Grass")).
Towards the end of the exhibits, I caught up with my father, and we began to play a game we always play at art museums: In each room, we choose one work to take home with us (our favorite), and ideally (as I got older), we explain why we chose it. As we were discussing our choices in one room, I began to recall/realize that there are two elements of choosing a favorite piece of art: the first is artistic quality and the second is personal preference. The line between the two, rather, balancing the two can be very difficult.
For instance, I chose a painting for its colors in one room, and my father chose two different ones. One was The Two Anglers, which I immediately admitted was a much better work of art than the one I chose. We agreed that it captured the color and consistency of muddy water very well, but I wasn't sure where I would put such a painting or that I would want to look at it. At the time, I decided it would fit in a room with a pool table perfectly. Since then, I've decided that it could fit in any room better than my first choice.
In purchasing things for Dan's apartment in Annapolis and my apartment in Seattle, I have become increasingly distinguishing and often unwilling to commit myself to artwork and even furniture. I'm beginning to think capturing a subject well is more important than containing colors I like. On a related note, I chose my graduation gift from my father - one of his paintings, and I did not have to choose between colors and quality. I got both (see above)!
After painting shopping at my dad's studio in Hudson, we grilled steaks and romaine lettuce (the latter is surprisingly good) and had corn on the cob, sauteed onion, and wine I brought back from France last December. During dinner, my father noticed that Koko Taylor was supposed to be playing outdoors in Albany's Blues Night. Due to thunderstorms, the event had moved into the Empire State Plaza Convention Center. Eager to escape the oppressive humidity, we headed to the capital, arriving just in time to enjoy the "Queen of Blues." Despite her old age (she's 78), she owned the stage and we an awesome time.
An interesting cross section of the Albany area attended, and we were all very close to the stage - an advantage during the concert but not afterwards (I think my hearing has returned now...) Koko really was a pleasure to watch. Tomorrow, we plan to run some errands in Hudson (visit the Knotty Woodpecker, home of my famous pajama pants) and the head to Vermont.
