Allow me to explain. I have thoroughly enjoyed all of the places we spent time in over the past week, some more than others, but overall, I took a lot away from them. With that being said, I have been itching for something more contemporary. Looking back hundreds of years has been valuable, and has enriched my sense of art history through first hand experience with the works only known in textbooks.
However :
I haven’t been able to form an appropriate combination of words to objectively explain the mental and physical reaction to stumbling upon Plight by Joseph Bueys. One can read as many wikipedia pages as they please, and page through art book after art book, but print media cannot translate the smell of several hundred dense rolls of grey felts, or the temporary deafness experienced by the lone viewer. Images, though unmoving, cannot do justice to the stillness of an silent grand piano. It is truly suffocating.
First hand experience has been the most crucial aspect of my time in Paris. Being among great works of art, I can understand their scale and context appropriately which paves the way for a critical response to the work. Growing up in a college town, and living in a smaller city like Milwaukee, these amazing works of art rarely feel within reach, but my time in Paris has forced me to realize that my favorite works are real, physical things beyond an image or descriptive paragraph. I better understand how attainable these first-hand experiences are.
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