The Joy Of Getting It For The First Time
The magic moment when one realizes they like art
For this Moment of Wonder, allow me to share a personal story.
You may find it surprising that this art historian was not bothered by museums as a teenager.
I thought that was as fascinating as mathematics.
The first time I visited the Louvre was on a school outing, thanks to a well-meaning teacher.
And I was overwhelmed, but not in a good way. First, there was the crowd, then the regurgitation of dates and facts.
There was all this decoding nonsense: "this flower means this, that line there means that."
An endless stream of useless facts: this painting dates from 1648, that one from 1655, and this one is 52 cm high.
I thought, 'Give me a rope so I can hang myself'!
So, getting me into a museum was not easy.
One day, I got dragged to the Rodin Museum. It was a complete blur, and I remember nothing.
Except this:
A big lightbulb lit over my head. I 'got it'. More like 'felt it'.
Until I first laid eyes on that statue, I thought you had to know stuff to understand an artwork. You had to know Greek mythology and Christian stories, the sort of things I knew little about.
It is intimidating, like being asked by the math teacher to explain geometry in front of the class. It was a barrier I couldn't jump over.
I didn't even know who this guy Rodin was. What were the chances I had heard of this lady, Camille Claudel?
Her brother was a famous writer, you say. Who?
The world-famous wave by Hokusai? I had never seen it, so I could not be titillated by getting the reference.
Yet all I cared for and felt was that the sculpture moved; it swirled.
The wave was gentle, and the girls were laughing. I had never seen a colored statue using an almost translucent stone.
I could feel the sea: the abandon, the deep joy of being in the salty air and not worrying about the world.
I was transported.
It was the visual equivalent of the tastebuds maturing—when one's palate finally grows.
Realize that you like wine for the taste, not just the giggles and hangovers.
The first time I saw The Wave by Camille Claudel was the precise instant I 'got it.'
I will never forget this, as it is one of the things that set me on this journey all these years later.
That was a Very Big Moment of Wonder.
Merci, Camille.
Since then, I learned how Camille ended up at the asylum, locked up for 30 years.
Like many other unfortunate ‘insane’ patients of lunatic asylums, in 1943, she was left to starve to death. Her story should be for another article.
A CALL FOR READERS’ FEEDBACK
If you would like to share the story of the artwork that similarly helped you 'get it,' I would love it if you could share it in the comments below.
One day, I might collect these stories and write an article about them.
Apologies for the poor quality of the pictures, but as the statue is behind glass, I won't even try to take a photo. All you would see is the reflection of a shiny head.
https://www.musee-rodin.fr/en/musee/collections/oeuvres/wave-or-bathers