Beware of Art

Today, Grady and I spent some time at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts with a friend of hers (Drew).

The museum is quite possibly the most extensive such collection I've ever visited. We didn't even see a small fraction of what I wanted to. I have already resolved to come back and take in the Pacific Islands collection at some point--meanwhile, the sections devoted to African, Chinese, and Southeast Asian art whetted my appetite. We also spent a fair bit of time going over some Renaissance artwork. I've discovered that paintings, especially of people, are mostly dull to me and often unsettling. In addition, I seem to have very little appreciation for old forms of European interior design. Despite this, those sections did contain some astonishing metalwork--in particular, a set of armor and weapons (including some spectacular firearms) with exquisite etching and ivory inlay. It was a bittersweet sort of appreciation--as an anthropology buff who's especially enamored of various non-Western cultures, I am painfully aware of how these artifacts in particular may have been used in the wholesale slaughter of peoples across the globe. It almost seems to poison the art somehow, or at least stain it in my eyes. At the same time, I admire the craftsmanship--the sense of imagery I saw in the Renaissance section may be dreary, but the handiwork is impressive nonetheless. I almost always admire functional art--while I prefer aesthetically -simple implements myself, there is something to be said for making tools ornate without disrupting their function.

The Sculpture Garden was next, and there will be a few photos when I'm in more comfortable environs. While sitting and basking in the nice weather, I managed to just about brain myself on one of the sculptures, which had seemed like a comfortable thing against which to sit. Hence, the title of this post. Now I sit in the Saint Louis Park library, with a fresh copy of "American Gods" from their booksale.