A friend asked me if I live at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. No, but sometime I wish it were so.
I attended this exhibit, Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris, with a Meetup Group. This gathering of people who appreciate art in all forms came together on Thursday evening to view a collection of photos by Marville, who worked as the official photographer for the city of Paris in the mid 1800's.
The photographs capture cityscape as still life and inspired in me feelings of sadness for inevitable sweep of change to come. Pay attention to the small details, for certainly Marville did. He caught the industrial bits and pieces that were new but also transient.
The technical descriptions of the photography were inspiring for this neophyte, as well.
Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris
Through 9/14/2014
Beck Building, Lower Level
Museum of Fine Arts Houston
Admission to this exhibit included with your general admission ticket
Showing posts with label museum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label museum. Show all posts
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Upstairs
Last night, the Museum of Fine Arts Houston opened a (to me) fascinating exhibition of the collection called "Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House". This is the first stop for the collection before it heads off to San Francisco and Nashville.
Somewhere in the pre-opening hype, I made note of a couple references to Downton Abbey. Of course, I was in! Would I see splendid furnishings similar to the television show I devoured recently? What of the tea sets?
I should have done a little more research.
It wasn't Downton. Well, I take that back. It was the foundation on which Downton could have been set if I wasn't in such a hurry to put an electric toaster in the kitchen. (Faithful viewers will get that.) The Houghton Hall exhibit displays an amazing example of what wealth must have been like and might still be. For some.
Now, back to the collection:
Houghton Hall is the family estate of the Marquesses of Cholomondeley. It was built in the early 18th century by Sir Robert Walpole. The traveling exhibit does a fair job of placing you into and guiding you through rooms of the estate. (After seeing massive marble arches in England, I was slightly underwhelmed by the use of the wall panels to represent the marble and the library.)
Speaking of books, I swooned at a John Locke. There are tiny treasures to explore. Take your time. The preview was PACKED and I felt a little claustrophobic. Within the glass cases are stunning examples of porcelain but not so many that you'll be bored by them. Particularly interesting to me were the handwritten inventories of household items.
Not to be missed: The massive "The Knights and The Briar Rose" by Edward Burne-Jones. I felt a tug by the Burne-Jones. It was immediately familiar. What was it? My friend and I went back for a second view. It struck me that it has much in common with "Joan of Arc" by Jules Bastien-Lepage. I've learned that Burne-Jones and Bastien-Lepage attended the Royal Academies of Art in England and France, respectively, at almost the same time. I attempted to dive deeper into these two artists but did you know that when you start down a road with signs marked, "Avant-garde", you always end up at a Warhol soup can?
I suggest that you view the exhibit from front to back, saving the portrait gallery for last. The John Singer Sargents merit time to appreciate their fall-into-me beauty.
Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House runs from June 22-September 21, 2014 at the Museum of Fine Arts, 1001 Bissonet, Houston, TX, 77005. Tickets are $15.00 Your ticket also provides entry to the museum's collections.
©Michelle Scofield, June 21, 2014, All Rights Reserved
Somewhere in the pre-opening hype, I made note of a couple references to Downton Abbey. Of course, I was in! Would I see splendid furnishings similar to the television show I devoured recently? What of the tea sets?
I should have done a little more research.
It wasn't Downton. Well, I take that back. It was the foundation on which Downton could have been set if I wasn't in such a hurry to put an electric toaster in the kitchen. (Faithful viewers will get that.) The Houghton Hall exhibit displays an amazing example of what wealth must have been like and might still be. For some.
Now, back to the collection:
Houghton Hall is the family estate of the Marquesses of Cholomondeley. It was built in the early 18th century by Sir Robert Walpole. The traveling exhibit does a fair job of placing you into and guiding you through rooms of the estate. (After seeing massive marble arches in England, I was slightly underwhelmed by the use of the wall panels to represent the marble and the library.)
Speaking of books, I swooned at a John Locke. There are tiny treasures to explore. Take your time. The preview was PACKED and I felt a little claustrophobic. Within the glass cases are stunning examples of porcelain but not so many that you'll be bored by them. Particularly interesting to me were the handwritten inventories of household items.
Not to be missed: The massive "The Knights and The Briar Rose" by Edward Burne-Jones. I felt a tug by the Burne-Jones. It was immediately familiar. What was it? My friend and I went back for a second view. It struck me that it has much in common with "Joan of Arc" by Jules Bastien-Lepage. I've learned that Burne-Jones and Bastien-Lepage attended the Royal Academies of Art in England and France, respectively, at almost the same time. I attempted to dive deeper into these two artists but did you know that when you start down a road with signs marked, "Avant-garde", you always end up at a Warhol soup can?
I suggest that you view the exhibit from front to back, saving the portrait gallery for last. The John Singer Sargents merit time to appreciate their fall-into-me beauty.
Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House runs from June 22-September 21, 2014 at the Museum of Fine Arts, 1001 Bissonet, Houston, TX, 77005. Tickets are $15.00 Your ticket also provides entry to the museum's collections.
©Michelle Scofield, June 21, 2014, All Rights Reserved
Saturday, January 4, 2014
D is for Docent
I moved from room to room, soaking up the bits of information he offered like the lemony, buttery sauce on a plate of perfectly roasted chicken. If I took my time and savored the experience, I could break off a crust of bread and enjoy the small morsels - slowly, with determination. I could delay looking at all the beautiful paintings hanging around me and focus on the few being discussed on the tour.
I was surprised to find that our tour was being led by a man. I admit to having a preconceived notion of a Docent as an elderly woman wearing a navy blue blazer, mid-calf skirt, and Naturalizer shoes. He wore none of these. He knew his Impressionists and he helped me to know them.
For a little over an hour, he led our group of fifteen through the permanent collection at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, giving us a mini-lesson on the beginnings of the movement and how to LOOK at one of the paintings to recognize the brush strokes, the placement of the subjects within the paintings, and the perspective of the artist.
I was very happy that he focused on one of my favorites - Camille Pissarro. My knowledge grew. That always makes a good day for me.
I also gained emotional insight into why the Impressionism period is my favorite. As we moved past a Classical piece, I felt uncomfortable. Too many rules.
Docents don't have to be women. Painters don't have to be realists. I don't have to eat the main course. I stayed only for the tour and saved that big bird on the platter for later.
©Michelle Scofield, January 4, 2014, All Rights Reserved
I was surprised to find that our tour was being led by a man. I admit to having a preconceived notion of a Docent as an elderly woman wearing a navy blue blazer, mid-calf skirt, and Naturalizer shoes. He wore none of these. He knew his Impressionists and he helped me to know them.
For a little over an hour, he led our group of fifteen through the permanent collection at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, giving us a mini-lesson on the beginnings of the movement and how to LOOK at one of the paintings to recognize the brush strokes, the placement of the subjects within the paintings, and the perspective of the artist.
I was very happy that he focused on one of my favorites - Camille Pissarro. My knowledge grew. That always makes a good day for me.
I also gained emotional insight into why the Impressionism period is my favorite. As we moved past a Classical piece, I felt uncomfortable. Too many rules.
Docents don't have to be women. Painters don't have to be realists. I don't have to eat the main course. I stayed only for the tour and saved that big bird on the platter for later.
©Michelle Scofield, January 4, 2014, All Rights Reserved
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Let's Run With this 1 Fine Day Thing
B is for bunch. I'm determined to participate in social activities, to be part of a group. Thankfully, I was called late yesterday afternoon and asked if I could be at the Houston Zoo last night to see the Zoo Lights. Yes! I had a great time walking through the pretty displays, listening to Christmas music (on January 1st), laughing, joking, in general being cracked up by 5 of the funniest guys I know.
Today is Thursday. You know, the day before Friday, which is followed by Saturday. Now that I'm not completely preoccupied by running (obsess much?), I don't have 3 and 4 hour blocks of time carved out for long runs on the weekends. What to do? Get out and participate in humanity! I'm signed up for a members' talk at the Museum of Fine Arts Saturday morning. Subject: The Impressionists. Love that! And maybe I'll make some friends.
I also received a birthday party invitation for Saturday night. It's not a surprise party but I was surprised to get the invite. Of COURSE I'm going. :)
My goal for this year is to look for 1 fine thing in every day. And to mix in the alphabet. And to try to write regularly. Wish me luck.
So far so good.
©Michelle Scofield, January 2, 2014, All Rights Reserved
Sunday, January 8, 2012
A Letter to Granny (About a Mummy)
Dear Granny,
Today I fulfilled a promise I made to you sometime in the mid 1980’s. I’m a little late. I’ve been busy. The kids are wonderful, grown and on their own. Of course they're brilliant – you always knew they would be. I finished that pesky degree, I became the single woman I should have been all along. Oh, wait. I got divorced, remarried, and divorced again. NOW I’ve been single for almost nine years and I can’t believe it’s been that long. I established myself in a career that’s solid and stimulating, if at times exhausting. In short – I emulated you.
Back to the promise. Do you remember those days when I lived in Plano and you lived in Fort Worth and we’d spend lazy afternoons at your house going through your scrapbooks? Inevitably, we’d come across your tickets to museums: The Louvre, The Smithsonian. You’d tell me about what you saw there and encourage me to, “Go, Michelle. Go!”
You were especially excited after seeing the Treasures of Tutankhamen Exhibit. If I remember correctly, you boarded a tour bus and went all the way to New York City to see it. You were always traveling. Being alone didn’t stop you because you simply craved the adventure and the experience. I remember sitting on your bedroom floor, both of us cross-legged, as you paged through the glossy program and told me what you’d seen. You kept telling me about all the gold and how amazed you were by the sheer quantity of riches buried with the young King.
We spent so many days like that, Granny. As I look back it seems that you took me to all those places and I never felt rushed or pressured while we toured your memories. I cherish those days.
Today I bought a ticket to the King Tut exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. I lined up for the 1 pm showing and stood patiently with about 40 other people. We watched a short introductory film, narrated by Harrison Ford. (I was happy the film was absent “Indiana Jones” music.) The doors to the exhibit swung open and we proceeded into about an hour’s worth of a lot of people standing in front of each other, many listening to audio guides, quite a few seeming to be frustrated with each other for blocking views. (Once inside the exhibit, it became clear that the introductory film was an attempt to space out the visitors into move-along-and-don’t-be-so-crowded order. It didn’t work all that great.)
The exhibit had the requisite educational placards giving brief explanations of the geographic, cultural and social aspects of the life of the Pharaohs, especially pertaining to funereal customs. I used the times when I couldn’t approach the displays of artifacts to read up on Hatsheput, Tutankhamen, and the artifacts that were found in the tomb of King Tut.
I was quite sad when I was looking at the display that showed the photographs of the mummy with finger protectors and sandals and some of the other jewelry that was on the body itself. I thought it didn’t belong in a museum. I’m not into curses nor do I have a strong belief in afterlife but I just felt that this person had been so disrupted. Yes, the treasures were all beautiful, and so very GOLD but I was sad as I walked through that part of the exhibit.
The final room had a film about a bone marrow test on King Tut’s femur and there was a replica of the mummy – of the dead Boy King. Granny, I’ve seen a lot of dead people in this job of mine and I’ve done enough bone marrow biopsies that if I never see another one, I’ll be just fine. I skipped that part. I figured I could read up on the DNA research to try to determine the royal line at a later date.
I also skipped the King Tut gift shop.
As I approached the museum exit, I reminded myself that I rarely get into Houston these days and I better see what else is going on at the MFAH. I ducked into “Gifts of the Sultan: The Arts of Giving at the Islamic Courts”. One word: Gorgeous.
There were sumptuous carpets like I’ve never seen before. The tapestry work was simply amazing. I also saw diamonds and emeralds worked into stunning pendants. There were fascinating books with the most intricate drawings and pictures. I’m so happy I stopped.
After a fairly morose encounter with a King, the Sultans lifted my spirits with color and vibrancy. I lingered and laughed. I appreciated.
So, Granny, that’s my day with King Tut. I’ve finally followed through as you asked. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about Paris. In time. In time.
Love,
Michelle
©Michelle Scofield, January 7, 2012 All Rights Reserved
Today I fulfilled a promise I made to you sometime in the mid 1980’s. I’m a little late. I’ve been busy. The kids are wonderful, grown and on their own. Of course they're brilliant – you always knew they would be. I finished that pesky degree, I became the single woman I should have been all along. Oh, wait. I got divorced, remarried, and divorced again. NOW I’ve been single for almost nine years and I can’t believe it’s been that long. I established myself in a career that’s solid and stimulating, if at times exhausting. In short – I emulated you.
Back to the promise. Do you remember those days when I lived in Plano and you lived in Fort Worth and we’d spend lazy afternoons at your house going through your scrapbooks? Inevitably, we’d come across your tickets to museums: The Louvre, The Smithsonian. You’d tell me about what you saw there and encourage me to, “Go, Michelle. Go!”
You were especially excited after seeing the Treasures of Tutankhamen Exhibit. If I remember correctly, you boarded a tour bus and went all the way to New York City to see it. You were always traveling. Being alone didn’t stop you because you simply craved the adventure and the experience. I remember sitting on your bedroom floor, both of us cross-legged, as you paged through the glossy program and told me what you’d seen. You kept telling me about all the gold and how amazed you were by the sheer quantity of riches buried with the young King.
We spent so many days like that, Granny. As I look back it seems that you took me to all those places and I never felt rushed or pressured while we toured your memories. I cherish those days.
Today I bought a ticket to the King Tut exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. I lined up for the 1 pm showing and stood patiently with about 40 other people. We watched a short introductory film, narrated by Harrison Ford. (I was happy the film was absent “Indiana Jones” music.) The doors to the exhibit swung open and we proceeded into about an hour’s worth of a lot of people standing in front of each other, many listening to audio guides, quite a few seeming to be frustrated with each other for blocking views. (Once inside the exhibit, it became clear that the introductory film was an attempt to space out the visitors into move-along-and-don’t-be-so-crowded order. It didn’t work all that great.)
The exhibit had the requisite educational placards giving brief explanations of the geographic, cultural and social aspects of the life of the Pharaohs, especially pertaining to funereal customs. I used the times when I couldn’t approach the displays of artifacts to read up on Hatsheput, Tutankhamen, and the artifacts that were found in the tomb of King Tut.
I was quite sad when I was looking at the display that showed the photographs of the mummy with finger protectors and sandals and some of the other jewelry that was on the body itself. I thought it didn’t belong in a museum. I’m not into curses nor do I have a strong belief in afterlife but I just felt that this person had been so disrupted. Yes, the treasures were all beautiful, and so very GOLD but I was sad as I walked through that part of the exhibit.
The final room had a film about a bone marrow test on King Tut’s femur and there was a replica of the mummy – of the dead Boy King. Granny, I’ve seen a lot of dead people in this job of mine and I’ve done enough bone marrow biopsies that if I never see another one, I’ll be just fine. I skipped that part. I figured I could read up on the DNA research to try to determine the royal line at a later date.
I also skipped the King Tut gift shop.
As I approached the museum exit, I reminded myself that I rarely get into Houston these days and I better see what else is going on at the MFAH. I ducked into “Gifts of the Sultan: The Arts of Giving at the Islamic Courts”. One word: Gorgeous.
There were sumptuous carpets like I’ve never seen before. The tapestry work was simply amazing. I also saw diamonds and emeralds worked into stunning pendants. There were fascinating books with the most intricate drawings and pictures. I’m so happy I stopped.
After a fairly morose encounter with a King, the Sultans lifted my spirits with color and vibrancy. I lingered and laughed. I appreciated.
So, Granny, that’s my day with King Tut. I’ve finally followed through as you asked. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about Paris. In time. In time.
Love,
Michelle
©Michelle Scofield, January 7, 2012 All Rights Reserved
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