Oh my, this was a crowded small room :-) People as dense as his brush strokes.  Up close, peering over shoulders, on tip toes, faces inches from the canvas.  And so it should be.  I’ve seen so much of his work (saw “Starry Night” again in New York in March, what a constant shock to see such thick perfect strokes on the thin contrast color background) yet the effect remains.  Simple, powerful, perfect.

MFA Houston (in the permanent collection in the north wing as you exit the Met show) has one of my favorite Van Gogh’s.  Just a big rock with a tree kinda coming out of the ground.  I kept a tiny postcard of it from the gift shop there for years and years.

What can I add about Van Gogh.  Not much I think.  The paintings from the Met aren’t the very best, but they’re so good it’s irrelevant.  It’s like, “oh yea, I’ve seen that one before, oh, look at that!”  Something else will catch your eye.  Most of my own favorites, from past shows at the MFA, are softer hued pastel colored landscapes, soft with a gentle purring energy happy to be alive.  But I don’t think I can forget the one of the courtyard with the gnarled circle of men stomping time into the stone pavement just to be kept in control.  Wrenching.  The colors.  The motion. The swirl of furied controlled energy that was once men.  I figured it was time to enter the long room and drink some Monet.

Monet

I enter the room the way I approach a buffet desert tray.  What do I like, what do I like?  What can I take in?  How much can I binge?  How badly will I miss what I can’t have more of?

Not nearly as crammed, still, the long room is full.  Most people politely try not to hog the face space in front of each painting, but what can one do?  A view from ten paces back, surge to a closer view, put on the glasses, then block someone’s view with your face peering at the exquisite surface inches away.  It must be.  My wife settles onto one of the long cushioned benches in the middle of the room.  She knows this'll be a bit.

The paintings are like the beautiful charming person who’s so appealingly approachable you lose all sense of any divisive standing, social financial experiential.  You’re accepted and you’re glad to be there.  It just is.

The paintings shimmer, differentiating themselves in terms of place and time, in terms of thick or thinness of paint applied, in strokes visible or almost hidden, in deepest darks with glowing winks to sun washed paleness with whispers of color, rich and endless greens, whites of blues lavender.  They’re all so different, that, but for one beauty of a floral and one very early giant of a tree (mid 1860's), you’d know without being told who had painted them all.

The giant floral arrangement is not that different in terms of texture or colors from his other work, just in the fact that it’s flowers. A big bouquet of flowers.  Monet did so few indoor table settings.  A few paces back it could be a slick heavy stock printed magazine cover.  Up close you see the mass of pushed paint coalescing into nature’s natural fireworks.  The paint practically growing into petals.

All his work I saw and saw again.  My practice is to see them well, then go finally, to another section, but finish the show with one last look at the Monet’s.

His other normally not attributable painting was the huge early work, flat in texture, dark in tone, but majestic in its spread of a huge old tree.  The composition spoke of maturity, even though he was in his 20’s then.

The corner of my eye spied the great early water recreational painting, the same locale done by both Monet and Renoir.  These, I've read, they both would sometimes trade with the restaurant owner nearby for food or lodging.  And that the owner had held onto many of those works, and in one of France's periods of depression, had enabled the family to survive.  I would have to return in a bit for a closer look.

Then there's the others, the others that even now still linger in my mind.

The vertical landscape of greens and lavenders with strokes so bold up close of the hills in the distance that, from a modest viewing distance, become perfect fading shades of a hillside.  It's kinda ironic that part of what works in the composition, the flat planes of land punctuated by tall trees is now often replaced in the same land today, by huge stands of forest.  According to one of the books I've seen (I wish I could remember the title, but it's in storage right now) that has modern day photographs of famous places painted by the impressionists, the land is more returned to nature, but no longer yields the same view painted.  When less and less people had to farm, and less grazing animals were kept, the land returned to it's pre-impressionist state, more wooded, less scenic.  If not ironic, at least interesting  :-)

The Parliament painting, a good sample of the series Monet did of this motif, with merging blending waves of deep and deeper reds maroons midnight blues glints with traces of light.  Then there's the painting of the frozen white of ice with touches of lightly laid blue here there, and yes, there too, just hints.  And more, the vertical painting of the Japanese bridge in the garden he created with its sweeps of both vertical and horizontal waves of color for the water and grasses, the reflections and flowers, all crossed by the curve of the bridge.

I had to leave and see another room.

Seurat, Vuillard, Bonnard

(and others)

I warned a friend of mine here in Austin planning to visit Houston to see the exhibit that the large formal Seurat "Sunday Afternoon in the Park" ("La Grande Jatte") was not the painting she would see, but the study, but that she'd be pleasantly surprised how wonderful and full of humanity it was.  I've always liked Seurat's studies more than his more finished dot work, though many are much more than just dots.

To the left of the study for his masterpiece at Met show in Houston is one of a gentleman, and the expressiveness of the work is wonderful.

But if you haven't seen the final large masterpiece in Chicago, you must.  It will fill your time like an afternoon in the park, pun intended.  That (I've read) Seurat died finishing the larger piece, freezing in a Paris garret, gives the accomplishment of the larger piece a girding it doesn't need, but deserves to be known.

I'm also enthralled with most of both Vuillard's and Bonnard's works, liking first one then the other better then the other, back and forth.  Vuillard's work usually strikes me as more abstracted, cerebral sorta, while Bonnard seems softer, lots of pets and closely felt interiors.  The selection in the show is good, all the works are good and worth seeing, but again, other exhibits at MFA Houston have had better pieces.

I guess what the show really has, as I'd suggested to my friend in Austin, is the advantage of compression.  In a relatively straightforward movement from room to room, on one floor, nothing is worth missing if you have the time, and the best is relatively easily seen if time is short.

There was much much more in this biggest room of them all, but time was tight now, and I wanted to return to the Monet's.  But first a quick side detour to see Picasso and Modigliani.

Picasso, Modigliani

Picasso is another world onto himself, I'm grateful to take in a few small relatively early works with exquisite expressiveness.  Mostly I want to take in the Modigliani's.  I'd recently seen the Andy Garcia movie about the last few years of Modigliani's life, where Modigliani dueled with Picasso for status in immediate post World War I Paris. Tortured by demons from his childhood, a drunk, fabulously talented, his life more tragic after his death by the suicide of his pregnant lover (the movie shows they never quite pulled off even getting married), the light and languid love of life in his paintings never saturated his life enough for him to survive.

A quick side note: two of the finest examples (actually one each of many great artists) my wife and I agree we've ever seen of either Picasso's or Modigliani's work, is in a tiny but absolutely must see collection, if it still exists, the Wynn collection in Las Vegas.  If it is closed to the public, we got a rare and wondrous treat.  These were top examples of how beautiful a Modigliani could be, and how gorgeous Picasso could be when he wanted.  And now it is truly time to revisit Monet.

Monet, take two

"La Grenouillère" is not one of my favorites, but it's like saying I like the Jaguar better'n the Cadillac.  This early bathing painting, done side by side with Renoir (whose work is more fluid and sensual; a nice write up is available at: http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/monet/early/bathing/), done as he was barely going to turn 30, is still continually intriguing in its sense of solidity, the sureness of its touch, its evocation of a grand place to visit.  I kept wanting to look away to see other pieces, and kept catching another detail, another brush swipe suggesting a person or shadow or light, each evoking yet another emotion.

I had to laugh at my own thought, "well, if this isn't one of my favorites, and I like it this much, what is my favorite Monet?"  The answer is there is no single piece.  As much as I try to see his work as often as possible, I've only had the opportunity to see a bare minimum and only occasionally.  Work in the Chicago Art Institute, Paris, New York, Giverny, Ft Worth, Dallas, and lots and lots in Houston itself. But only for a moment, a few moments almost stolen from a non-interest bearing account.  I keep finding work that surprises me.  But I have been able to see several pieces two or more times now over time.  I've been able to compare to a small degree various work from various time frames against each other and against other artists spanning the same time frame.  Ultimately it's hard for me to fault any group of individuals who persevered for so many decades doing what they felt such passion for.  I may have stolen moments from a non-interest bearing account at one time, but I definitely feel I've made a wise deposit where it counts, in my heart.   I decide the ice painting glowing across the way needs face time :-)

It's amazing that such minimal range of hue has such incredible touch of color variance.  I love the way strong brush marks score the middle of the otherwise smooth canvas splitting sky and frozen water, both sky and water flat through the misty ice in the air.  The mind squeezes the eyes to shut out the cold.

I don't have a single Monet poster, but I have dozens of calendars, years of them, monthlies, dailies, weeklies.  I've a new daily to the right of me as I type with images I've never seen.  In front of me is a quote from Monet, "It is because I rediscovered and allowed intuitive and secret forces to predominate that I was able to identify with creation and become absorbed in it.  My art is an act of faith, an act of love and humility."  A b&w photo of a very old long white bearded Monet on his bridge in his garden w/a visiting friend, the water and lilies and background of trees seen underneath the bridge flanks the calendar before me.

But now it is time to leave.  Last glances at the vertical spring painting in the southeast corner of the room, a quick goodbye to the tall broad floral full of light, so long to the parliament sunset sinking into night.  It's time to cross the Japanese bridge one last time with this great past master and finish in the last room left. 

Cezanne

The near solitary (he never really stayed totally alone did he? :-)  grump from provence, befriended and admired by nearly all the impressionist to some degree (pissarro and monet especially supportive) rivals monet for contemporary influence, and for many, easily surpasses him.  That's not a question I can answer.  I've seen this kind of judgment change with the times historically a couple times since their deaths.  And I have a personal preference for Monet's and Renoir's work, followed by Morisot and Pissarro, but Cezanne's touch and talent is unmistakable.  I prefer his light colored landscapes with white-deckled edging like that left by watercolor paper the best. But the portraits in the Met exhibit of his wife are among the best I've seen.  They weren't officially married for many years because of his relationship with his father, something Monet had done w/Camille for a few years himself, and later with Alice (for other reasons, but, yes, seems there was always a reason with these artists :-) but Cezanne and Hortense were, it seems, truly in love even if not married for many many years.

Because I had delayed so long renewing my membership, I was offered a free poster to renew.  It's of the prettier of the portraits of Hortense, color dancing, happiness in the picture, rare in this otherwise often sadly portrayed woman and as often tortured artist.

The Met Gift Shop

We'd hoped to pick up some more of the Met's silk scarves we'd found in the Met store near our hotel in New York, but even though they had some very nice ones, neither the Tiffany nor the Central Park scene ones were there.  Both are beautiful.  One is vibrant with the colors of Tiffany's stained glass, the other a snow scene in central park full of happiness and fun.  I'd still recommend pausing and browsing if you can, the items are different from the MFA Houston's gift shop, also very nice, but it's a treat of things not often seen.

[postscript, added Saturday, December 8, 2007: i'd like to add i've purchased items online, by mail (in the old days :-), and in their stores (ny & houston) for years, including for this Christmas, and encourage you to get one of the two lower price memberships that gives you a discount, otherwise you'll regret not doing so each time you order :-) ; the quality of the gifts, their consistent beauty, and the usually enclosed related art lineage of the gift have never not been genuinely appreciated]

Food

Sheila and I love eating at the cafeteria at the museum in Houston.  Big fresh servings one can split, and absolutely delicious coffee that definitely is full caffeine strength. Typically we'll get one salad entree and then choose a tempting pasta dish.  But there were not only no tables to be had, the two huge thick unmoving lines waiting to place their food orders meant this treat would have to wait for next time.  And those who got our daily food outing reports after each day at ArtExpo know we wouldn't have made this decision lightly  :-)

Conclusion

Don't let this exhibit pass you by if at all possible.  Don't let any negative expression on my part about any of the exhibit dull you from going.  Don't let the chance to see so much in such a convenient layout so few miles away (those of us in Texas and surrounding states know the truth of this) ‘cause soon these paintings are going to Berlin and then back to the Met.  And that’s further away than the Panhandle!

The Met may or may not have put out it's very best for us to see, but no doubt they're better than anything from that time period I'll see for a hundred miles from home.

Like my exhibiting at ArtExpo in New York, these kind of blockbuster shows can have long lasting not quickly realized effects that can change the way you feel and think and see your own life.  At least it does me.

REMINDER & THANKS

Please feel free to email me with any comments insights or fleeting thought you'd like me to share with my mailing list about this review in 3 part harmony  :-)

Remember, I'll only edit unseemly comments, and I won't post any response on my part or from anyone else in response to any comment sent in and posted.

What comments could you do?  Your own comments about the exhibit, agreement or disagreement with my own observations, corrections and/or additions to info about the artists, other shows or museums, misspellings, lots of stuff.  Even a thought or a feeling about something the review brought out in yourself.

Also, I will either simply credit your post with either your first name only or just your initials, just let me know, haven't decided what i'll default to if there's no preference stated; and, I'd like to notate what city the comment was sent from.  That's it.

Thank you.  I sincerely hope you enjoyed at least most of the review and ramble  :-)

Part One, Part Two

Adan

ps - the following is the link to the MFA Houston site re the Met show, hope you can see it