Journal, October 16: Chicago's Art Institute

No one knows a city like a tourist.  In a short space of time, a visitor can go from untutored novice to something close to expert, all out of the necessity of finding one's way, and taking in as much as possible....taking in what many residents take for granted.


I told Mark I want to start to visit the city of Chicago as a tourist...to learn it that well... and to eventually conquer it!


Last night, I took the train in after work to meet him at the Art Institute of Chicago.


The Art Institute engulfed us for a good three hours last night.....we would have stayed longer, but we were bound by the commuter train schedules...



Having now seen the two major Art Museums in Boston and New York, I would say that Chicago is a worthy contender to the title of finest in the country.....


The Modern Wing occupied our entire evening. The westward-facing windows of the all-white Terzo Piano Dining Room on the fourth floor offer views of the spectacular architecture of South Michigan Avenue from a perspective difficult to see from that elevation from the Lake, looking back to the skyline from that point.


The galleries ran a complete gamut from the utterly captivating to the bizarre. I hated the dreadful video work "Clown Torture";.... but the portraits of Alex Katz, especially "Vincent and Tony", were quite satisfying. I am unfamiliar with much of the "modern" movement and philosophy; the political and social statements that support many of the works (printed on cards next to them) are usually TOO immediate, and have no timely or universal appeal...many pieces seem like petulant children, demanding attention, and on their own terms....


But I am happy I experienced it, and I am sure I'll be back to test my impressions again, and learn a little more, even as I gravitate to the European Paintings, Decorative Arts, and the wonderful Miniature Rooms, which are among my more traditional favorites. There were a couple of Jackson Pollocks and Andy Warhols that I enjoyed as well, being more familiar to me.


One remarkable piece confronted me that I can't stop remembering: one oil that grabbed me--- Lucien Freud's "Sunny Morning--Eight Legs"   Yes, the dog grabbed my attention,  ....but aside from that, it is a haunting and sinister piece.... And sad, in a way....with brush strokes so emphatic (you have to see it up close) that it appeared to be the work of someone having a psychotic episode.... the legs under the bed give it a violence, an eroticism....
 
Another step along the way...another rock in the breakwater of reinvention...the end is still too far on the horizon to see...