New York: Postponed

As all of my lovely readers probably know, New York City and the whole Atlantic coastline was battered by Hurricane/Superstorm Sandy. Although it's recovering amazingly from the storm, we've postponed our trip, to probably early spring next year.

Some of the museums we're hoping to visit:
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
The Guggenheim Museum
Whitney Museum of Art
New York Museum of Modern Art
The Frick Collection

There's a significant amount of Impressionist art at the Met, which I didn't get to see when I visited, as well as a few paintings at the MOMA. The Frick Collection and Whitney Museum are home to a number of Post-Impressionist art, including paintings by Van Gogh, Cezanne and Picasso.

Books about Impressionism

Hello, lovely readers! You may have seen my other blog, Friday Spines, on which I blog a book review each Friday. I'm doing a bit of a crossover here--I'm starting a book called The Private Lives of the Impressionists, which from what I've heard, should be quite good. If, like me, you're going on an Impressionism immersion journey, keep reading for updates on my thoughts about this and other wonderful Impressionism books!

Happy reading,
M. Gabrielle

Monet's Series Paintings

Perhaps the most famous of Monet's paintings are his water lilies. From the smaller canvases displayed at museums across the world to the huge lilies at the Musée de l'Orangerie--filling the walls of two circular rooms--his water lilies are iconic Impressionist paintings.

Monet's first series of paintings of a single subject were of haystacks, near Giverny, in the summer of 1890 He first noticed the haystacks on a walk, and believed that two canvases would be enough to capture the changing light: One for the bright daylight and one for dusk. Soon, however, he had many canvases set up simultaneously, working on each as the color and angle of the light and clouds shifted subtly. He continued studying his haystacks through the harvest season and winter, not only showing different time of day but drastically different season.

The effect is that of a person who regularly walks the route that Monet did, through the field of haystacks, who pays attention to detail and light. Instead of becoming accustomed to the landscape and therefore immune to it, Monet uses his experience with the subject to render details even more subtly or brightly, capturing the literal view of the haystack while focusing on the overall tone of the painting. His subtle brushstrokes add texture and movement to the piece, and the motionlessness of his centered horizon lines are offset by the distant mountains in the background.

Color, though, is Monet's main genius; this is excellently captured by this series, as we see the same subject, a similar composition, and yet each painting is totally separate. A blue, brown, gold, or green tint to shadows, a light dusting of white on top of the haystacks, a shadow of color low in the sky to suggest the position of the sun; each contribute to the individuality of the paintings, and are created solely by Monet's adept use of color.


His other series' include populars, also near his home in Giverny. This series was started in 1891, the year after his haystacks were completed. While the composition is significantly different than his haystacks, Monet again focuses on using the same layout and brushstrokes, using  only color to create the differences in season and time of day.

His series of the House of Parliament has more varied color and tone than any of his other series', except for his water lilies. Done in 1900-1905, these paintings capture heavy fog, brilliant sunlight, and calm skies.

Seattle: Narrative

Not being able to fall asleep the Wednesday night before our first trip probably wasn't the best idea. I woke up about five minutes after I went to sleep, and missed the whole two-hour plane ride awkwardly sleeping in the airplane seats.

I wake up to the captain announcing there's heavy cloud cover. Too lazy to open my eyes, I decide I'll look out the window after we've gone through the clouds, so I can see the city before we land. I keep doing quick peeks to check, and about 5 seconds after I see thick fog after the window, we land. Heavy cloud cover indeed!

The airport is beautiful. There are brass metal fish on the floor--at first we thought there were only salmon, but upon closer inspection there are schools of smaller fish and other not-salmon-looking ones as well. Not being a fish expert I can't give much more detail.

We were trying to find a mailbox, for a letter I'd finished the night before--a woman at a bookstore (half of whose books were 50 Shades of Grey or 50 Shades Darker) told us the mailbox was purple, and that it was to the left. The second woman we asked told us it was around the corner (we were in the straight hallway of the main terminal, decidedly lacking in corners) and the lady at a money-exchange place finally pointed us to an alcove next to security. The mailbox, once we finally found it, was indeed purple--there are seven mailboxes in the airport, delivered to the post office at 10 each morning. That was the first thing I liked about Seattle. 

There was about a 10 minute walk through a parking garage to get to Light Rail. It was chilly outside and not terribly pleasant, but there was a pedestrian walkway next to the elevators, so we didn't have to navigate the cars in the garage. 

The Light Rail station was open (and windy!) but beautiful: There was a cascade of small mirrors hanging from the ceiling above the escalators, which was nice on a foggy day. The ticket system is easy to use, but slightly baffling to travelers coming from the San Francisco Bay Area--after purchasing your ticket, you simply walk up the escalator or down stairs to the station. There are no turnstiles or ticket agents; the only barriers are designed to prevent luggage carts from the airport or shopping carts. Trains run from 5 am to 12 am, between 7.5 and 15 minutes apart.

 At Westlake Station (the last stop on the line, and only a few blocks from our hotel) we got off the train to find buses sharing the platform with trains. The Light Rail tracks are flat on the ground, and the buses (some electric, some regular) can pull up beside the trains. 

We were expecting about a 15 minute walk to our hotel. From Westlake Station (which had the atmosphere of a miniature Grand Central) we passed a Nordstrom, a very inviting looking Barnes and Noble, Williams and Sonoma, Forever 21, and other stores in a variety that appealed to both Mom and me. Our hotel turned out to be only a block and a half from the station, about a 4 minute walk if you didn't catch the light. 

Apart from a few arrangements of dead flowers in the lobby (replaced the next morning) and men in suits discussing the demolishment of one of the lobby walls, the Roosevelt Hotel was beautiful and very comfortable. 

After dropping off our suitcases at the hotel (our room wasn't ready; it was only 10am) we left for the Frye museum. There were a few fairly steep hills involved as well as a tunnel shared with cars, but the walk was beautiful. On either side of the tunnel there was a bridge over this park, which had beautiful paper flags hanging above it. 

We crossed the street to a little cafe, and ordered lunch. I had a veggie sandwich without everything except cheddar cheese and avocado, and it was perfect. Mom had a sun-dried tomato and pesto sandwich, which she didn't like as much. We were more than halfway to the museum at this point--the rest of the walk was a beautiful residential neighborhood with lots of trees and pretty little yards. 

The Frye Museum was absolutely gorgeous. There were light-colored wood floors, ceilings high enough to be roomy but not intimidatingly big. It's a free museum, founded by Charles and Emma Frye's collection after their death in the 1940's. 

Their exhibits were better arranged than many of the Impressionist exhibits I've seen, mostly at museums in San Francisco--SF MOMA, the Palace of Fine Arts, or the de Young museum. There was more space in between each painting, giving time to breathe and recalibrate before moving to the next piece. It was nice that the exhibit wasn't miles long--they did a good job with arranging the paintings in way that made it easy to absorb the art. I would have liked to see more Mary Cassatt artwork, though. There was a single pastel sketch by her, and although they didn't advertise her work significantly on the website, I'd expected she'd have more of a presence in an exhibit about American artists in Europe.

The only other complaint I had about the museum itself was the lack of seating in the exhibits--there were two sets of three chairs in the main collection room, but no benches or other chairs in the special exhibits. The gift shop was under renovation at the time, which was a disappointment, but they had a wonderful little cafe--it was very light and beautiful, with fancy tea sets and gorgeous cakes in the window.

On the way back to our hotel, we stopped at a little diner for some more caffeine (to get us through the San-Francisco-esque hills). We lay down for a little while at the hotel, then walked down the hill toward Pike Place, where we went along the picturesque, bustling Post Alley for a few blocks before stopping for dinner.

Afterwards we went down to the original Starbucks (fun to put pictures on your Facebook page, but don't bother making a special trip to go in) and walked along the water for the sunset. There was some sort of gathering in a small park, presumably for the autumn equinox, which was interesting but preferably observed from a distance.

The walk back to the hotel in the dusk was beautiful. Downtown Seattle was busy but not crowded, and the stores are very fun to peek into in the evenings when everything is lit up. We watched Friends reruns on the TV and I wrote a little until bed.

Frye Art Museum History

The Frye Museum was founded not by wealthy aristocrats or royals but by Charles Frye, owner of his own successful meatpacking plant, and his wife Emma. Charles was the son of German immigrants; he was born in Iowa, and married Emma before moving to Seattle at age 30, where he established his business. At around age 35, Charles is said to have viewed his first oil painting: He and his wife became avid collectors (especially of German-style art, lending paintings to museums as well as Seattle's Alaska-Yukon Pacific Exhibition (related to the World's Fair). They had a large collection of paintings in their home, as well as a private exhibition space. 

The Fryes had planned to donate their collection to the Seattle Art Museum after Charles's death, but--perhaps given to the strict guidelines about the exhibition space of the artwork, perhaps given the significant presence of German paintings around a time of anti-German sentiment, around WWII--the collection was refused. 

Charles and Emma left money in their will to open their own private museum. The executor of the will--Walser Greathouse--became the museum's first director, ensuring that the Frye's wishes of big rooms, concrete floors and free admission were carried out. 

The Frye's original collection consisted mostly of "dark, dramatic and psychological' works rather than patriotic or gentle landscape-stype art. Although recent exhibits--such as Ties That Bind--have ventured toward more accessible art, there were still paintings on display by artists fascinated by the changing skin tone of dead bodies, as well as the expressions on the faces of the "possessed" and similar topics. 

Seattle photos!

The park before the tunnel, with flags

(me having fun with my camera)

(Mom and I taking pictures of each other)

(more flags)

(fun shadows at the park)

(pretty trees--the sun finally came out, although it was still rather chilly)

(a beautiful old building)

(crosswalk--me being artsy and distracted by shadows)

(a beautiful town hall)

(sun in Seattle!)

(the fog)

(shadows of some balloons)

Lunch

(outdoor seating) 

The cafe was beautiful, though--both the customers and staff were friendly, and very accommodating of my lack of love for pesto.

(pretty stone building)

(an interesting stop sign)

And here we are, finally!

The exhibit we came from San Francisco to see-Ties That Bind: American Artists in Europe. (It closed last week)

Here are a few of the paintings that were displayed in this exhibit: 

Charles Sprague Pearce. Sainte Genevieve, 1887. Oil on canvas. 82 x 66 in. 

This is the piece that appeared on the brochures for the exhibit, and was one of Mom and my favorites.

I love the brushstrokes in this painting. The looser, more wild green strokes in the grass and foliage contrast with the more controlled, flatter brushwork in Genevieve's clothes. This creates tension between atmosphere of her home life, brought to the painting by the houses in the background and her dress and shoes, and the wildness of the outdoors. Genevieve's sheep act as the middle ground, both literally in the painting, and as a domesticated part of nature.  

This painting reminds me of a Monet, Woman With A Parasol. The soft colors of the child evoke innocence, as the mother or nanny in a more restrictive green dress looks on. Their carefree attitude is mimicked by the brushstrokes of the flowers and the flowing movement of the path, touching both sides of the painting and disappearing in the background. Poppy-colored and white flowers in the foreground are mirrored by the bank of flowers in the right middleground and the far strip along the horizon line.