Yesterday, we spent touring some of Paris' museums. What surprised me as much as anything was that often the buildings were as impressive as the artwork they contained.
We saw well known and little known works. Some were grand and expansive and others simple portraits. The art we viewed went from dramatic to drab (is it just me or is the Mona Lisa the Paris Hilton of the art world--primarily famous for being famous?). I have had the prerequisite humanities courses in college, but I am far from an art expert. I did leave however appreciating all of the art, just liking some of it more than others.
Although we saw more well-known pieces at the Louvre, I was more impressed by the Impressionist work that was displayed at Musee d' Orsay. I am not the kind of person who purchases art, but I was so impressed by Van Gogh's L'Eglise d'Auvers-wur-Oise I got an inexpensive reproduction to frame.
I think the reason I like the impressionists so much is because they leave the mind's imagination room to move and construct. Hyper-realistic painting is an incredible achievement, but there is no left work for the viewer to do. With the impressionists, the splashes of colors and identifiable yet indistinct shapes leaves the person who sees it fills in their own details.
It strikes me as being similar to a phrase that I often use when I talk about stories. Some stories are true others offer truth. A crime report in the paper is true. A parable offers truth. Myth has a power to communicate at a deeper level than facts alone.
Realistic painting is a reporting of the world. Impressionism explores the truth underneath it.
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