magic in the museum with iPhone photos

late-afternoon, energy flagging, i decided to go for a little walk for some fresh air and to clear my head. the office has a park-like campus along the oslo fjord and a short distance away is the henie-onstad modern art museum. i walked in that direction, thinking i'd just have a walk in the sculpture park and not go in, but for some reason, i was drawn inside. and happily, i learned that the museum is free on wednesdays!

first, i checked out the to be heard is to be seen exhibition, which featured paintings specially done directly on the walls and several interesting video installations, a sound installation and a rotating rhinestone-clad accordion. i wasn't supposed to take pictures, but since i was all alone, i sneaked out the iPhone and snapped some shots. they of course don't do it justice. even just the architecture of the place means it's a tremendous space, even without the art.

one of my favorite parts was a series of art-journal kind of pages featuring a poem by a scandinavian poet who i didn't know and whose name i failed to write down. this was my favorite page:

i like screaming i like my brain i like horses

in type, on ordinary paper and with faded cello tape. i love it.

tapestry by asger jorn
and a little peek of the hallway i describe below

then i headed for the other wing of the museum, feeling content with the fact that i was the only visitor. the exhibition on the other side was entitled the art of tomorrow today. it's a selection of pieces from their permanent collection, displayed in beautiful surroundings that completely do justice to the art. danish artist asger jorn apparently loved norway and the henie-onstad museum and donated a whole lot of his drawings and sketches and doodles. they were matted and framed and all hanging together in critical mass along a long, curved wooden hallway. my iPhone couldn't come close to capturing it, but it was so marvelous i had to go back and have a second look. here are a few shots i did manage to get.

in addition to jorn, there were miró, a couple of picassos, a matisse, jasper johns, warhol's electric chair 1-10 and some rauschenberg soviet pieces from 1988 that to me were very evocative of those waning years of the reagan era and the soviet union.

i really couldn't believe my luck, having those wonderful paintings all to myself, to enjoy in silence on my own, no one moving past me, getting in my way or breaking into my thoughts with their voices. the golden light of the afternoon sun coming through the windows into the (typically norwegian) wood-intensive space combined with the art did that thing to my molecules where they hum in perfect alignment.

i told the girl at the desk on my way out that i thought it had been quite magical having the place all to myself. and for free to boot! how lucky was that?

craft is cool

not long ago, my sister said, "you're too educated for all those arts & crafts." she was making fun of me for my constant preoccupation with whether or not i'm being creative. and she was, of course, trying to be funny and perhaps a little bit trying to appeal to my inner snob (that would be the one who went to the U of C). but, her statement actually gets at a larger issue. it seems that a return to traditional ways of being and doing things is on the rise.

mmm, homemade schnapps

just a couple of years ago, i would not even have imagined myself knitting or quilting or embroidering (still having trouble on the knitting, tho' i'm only a mildly retarded monkey now, not a profoundly retarded one like before). it seems there is a whole community of people all over the world who are making these old-fashioned handicrafts fashionable and hip again. handmade is totally in--whether it's pickles, flavoring your own alcohol, making coffee cozies and coasters, crocheting covers for stones, knitting for your friend's baby, giving a quilt to someone special for christmas. it's not just for little old hunched over grannies anymore. craft is cool.

i wonder what these are going to be when they grow up?

and why is that? what is it in the zeitgeist that makes us want to remember how to DO things with our own hands? is it a reaction to the information age? to the fact that most of us work in some kind of service sector and don't actually MAKE anything anymore in our jobs (except a bunch of meaningless consultant speak fashionable words that say a lot without really saying anything)? are we driven by some kind of biological instinct to want to make things with our own two hands?

or is it, as denis dutton (editor of the fabulous arts & letters daily) suggests, that appreciation of art is the result of human evolution--sexual selection--to help us find the right mate. actually, he's talking more about the ability to appreciate beautiful, artistic things, rather than the ability to produce them, but this quick overview of his theory is worth a click and a bit of a think anyway.

my theory, and it's still under development, is that this desire to hold the fruits of our own labors in our hands is a reaction to the world having gotten so fast. information travels at light speed. i'm spending a lot of time hanging out in cyberspace with people from around the world, having what i can only term real friendships with people i've never met in person. so some part of the core of who i am desires to have something that's here and now with me, in my own two hands (and which isn't a pretty mac keyboard, which is often what's at least near, if not in my hands). there's so much information out there that our grasp of it is only fleeting, and by the time we might grasp it, it's already moved on to the next thing. therefore we feel a need to have something to hold onto.

free form embroidery by sabin

i think that's why i'm--despite two master's degrees, fulbright, an ABD Ph.D. that i probably won't ever finish, and a rather meaningful career in shipping that takes me around the world--spending all of my spare time doing arts and crafts (or thinking about doing them, as the case may be). it makes me feel in touch with my here and now. it's tangible. it brings beauty into my home and my very molecules into alignment (which usually only happens in the lobby of the manila pen). it feels meaningful to see sabin sewing around the edge of her cards for her swap or helping her thread a needle so she can embroider a flower that she drew onto some fabric with a chalk pencil. it makes me feel good to make gifts for the people i love. it feels like it was time well spent and yes, i also feel proud that i have the ability to make something with my own hands. so, i guess i'll keep doing it, despite being over-educated for it.

maybe it's a product of a childhood spent reading the laura ingalls wilder books over and over. i just want to homestead. homesteading in the 21st century, that's what this is. i really can't wait for spring so i can get started on the garden. i vow that we're gonna have enough tomatoes to can some next summer!