New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art
January 14th 2009 17:48
Just to the east of Central Park’s great lawn lies the mighty Metropolitan Museum of Art. One of the largest and richest treasure houses on earth, it runs for four full city blocks, from East 80th, to East 84th Street and houses some of the world’s most prized booty.
Outside, the Met is a classical colossus of grey stone slabs, thick Doric pillars, giant arched doors and windows, heavy fascias and wide sweeping stairs. Inside, it’s a labyrinth of cavernous halls, long corridors, endless galleries - great and small, shadowy or blindingly bright - and more sweeping stairs.
It was a damp, grey autumn day when I followed the lengthy queue through the Met’s revolving door, past security and up to the ticket office, where I paid my entrance fee and received a tiny metal badge, painted with a bold white M and colour coded (purple) for the day (Friday). It was wonderful weather for art galleries. Thousands of others obviously thought so too and my heart sank as I shuffled shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of them towards hall of Greek Antiquities.
However, so vast is the Met, that I was easily able to find a free bench beside a limbless marble deity, then to wander uncrowded among her stone brothers and sisters, through the ruins and spoils of their palaces and temples. I spent undisturbed hours mesmerized by the Modiglianis and other modern greats. I ambled through galleries, discovering unknown American masters and masterpieces. I rediscovered Edward Hopper and lost myself in his narrative paintings. I wandered through a chain of rooms full of furniture and furnishings, including stained glass by Tiffany whom I knew only from his lamps. I stood stunned and dumbfounded, before the multitude of magnificent treasures that comprise the Lehmann collection. Still I couldn’t help speculating on how far it would have gone towards pulling the company he founded out of the economic abyss into which it had crashed just days before.
Unfortunately, too, so vast is the Met that it is impossible to see all of its treasures in one visit, or even, I suspect in a hundred. I missed dozens of rooms and collections, along with the current special exhibitions. I didn’t have time to queue for the fabulous ground floor restaurant overlooking Central Park. After a short break in the mezzanine café (perfect for people watching) and a cursory browse in the Met shop (brimming with great books, posters, toys and souvenirs) my day had gone. But I’ll go back to the Met, again (and again and again) if I get the chance!
.
Greek antiquities at the Met
Outside, the Met is a classical colossus of grey stone slabs, thick Doric pillars, giant arched doors and windows, heavy fascias and wide sweeping stairs. Inside, it’s a labyrinth of cavernous halls, long corridors, endless galleries - great and small, shadowy or blindingly bright - and more sweeping stairs.
A limbless deity
It was a damp, grey autumn day when I followed the lengthy queue through the Met’s revolving door, past security and up to the ticket office, where I paid my entrance fee and received a tiny metal badge, painted with a bold white M and colour coded (purple) for the day (Friday). It was wonderful weather for art galleries. Thousands of others obviously thought so too and my heart sank as I shuffled shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of them towards hall of Greek Antiquities.
Modigliani at the Met
However, so vast is the Met, that I was easily able to find a free bench beside a limbless marble deity, then to wander uncrowded among her stone brothers and sisters, through the ruins and spoils of their palaces and temples. I spent undisturbed hours mesmerized by the Modiglianis and other modern greats. I ambled through galleries, discovering unknown American masters and masterpieces. I rediscovered Edward Hopper and lost myself in his narrative paintings. I wandered through a chain of rooms full of furniture and furnishings, including stained glass by Tiffany whom I knew only from his lamps. I stood stunned and dumbfounded, before the multitude of magnificent treasures that comprise the Lehmann collection. Still I couldn’t help speculating on how far it would have gone towards pulling the company he founded out of the economic abyss into which it had crashed just days before.
Edward Hopper's The Town Meeting
Unfortunately, too, so vast is the Met that it is impossible to see all of its treasures in one visit, or even, I suspect in a hundred. I missed dozens of rooms and collections, along with the current special exhibitions. I didn’t have time to queue for the fabulous ground floor restaurant overlooking Central Park. After a short break in the mezzanine café (perfect for people watching) and a cursory browse in the Met shop (brimming with great books, posters, toys and souvenirs) my day had gone. But I’ll go back to the Met, again (and again and again) if I get the chance!
.
A landscape in the Lehmann collection
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Comment by Chris Champion
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Comment by Tania Crivellenti
Written Life
The Dancing Bug
Aussie Folly
Delirios Australianos
Don't you feel like museums have a special atmosphere?
I feel like I’m in a parallel dimension. They smell special too.
Maybe is the energy of all the people there, in awe...
I always feel like I’m walking in space or that I’m a child in a field trip...
Comment by Patricia
Travel Stripe
Tania, exactly, museums really are like parallel universes. They do smell special and they do have a life and energy of their own. Love the Louvre too! Thanks for the comment