I Have a Dream . . .

my love affair with art museums

Forgive me for stealing Dr. Martin Luther King’s famous words for my title; it is only too evident that the sentiment behind those words when he said them was profound whereas when I say them my intention contains far less meaning. The words are relatable, however, and here’s why - I had a dream, too, and it was to escape my provincial (more succinctly defined as “unsophisticated”) upbringing, if not physically, at least intellectually.

Here's a little context for you: I was raised in a Podunk cowboy town in the heart of Montana surrounded by everything rural. Exposure to “art” in any of its many forms was limited. We had no live theater, few music events except school band concerts, a dance school whose performances each spring were mostly for the parents, a circus that traveled through town once a year, and very rarely a troupe of on-the-road actors would perform at our civic center. We did have a symphony orchestra and a small, regional museum that featured the western art of Charlie Russell who was a ginormously talented artist and has an inspiring backstory, but as a young girl, I could not appreciate him or his work. I didn’t care about cattle drives and herds of bison and ‘Indians’ as they were referred to in our cultural ignorance prior to the 21st century. This was not my idea of a “real” museum. I was attracted to the refined styles and themes of the European and Renaissance artists, Dutch artists, the Impressionists. This was the art I wanted to see.

So here’s the weird thing - my first opportunity to visit a “real” museum didn’t come to me until I was 35. “What?!” you scoff. I know! I agree with you. I told you that this dream had been in the making since I could hold a spoon, yet I was on my way to middle age before I made it happen. Life does that to us sometimes. (Big sigh.) Dreams get put on hold.

When I finally did get to visit a “real” museum, it was the J. Paul Getty Museum in Santa Monica, CA. It was an experience I will never forget and like a rocket, launched me into lifelong engagement with heavier-than-heck art books and artist biographies.

Photo Credit:  Shutterstock

Since that first encounter, I have visited the Getty several more times as well as museums in Phoenix, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Los Angeles, New York City, and Amsterdam. This includes modern art museums, but I always find my strongest memories are of the museums that house the classical works.

There is about a hundred more museums I’d like to visit. (I’m a Virgo. I have a list.) And my current dream is to visit them – by myself – I have learned it’s no fun visiting an art museum with someone who does not share the same passion. It’s deathly boring for them and anxiety- provoking for person who’s the afficionado.

So that’s my dream – still going strong.

My favorite painting of all time? “Portrait of Madame X” by American painter John Singer Sargent.

Footnote: A curious by-product of getting to see the art I had longed to see is that, with maturity and time, I eventually developed an appreciation for the western art I had found uninspiring as a young girl.