On seeing works of art

In this very digital age we can see a picture of every work of art at the drop of a hat. So why do we still go to see original works of art? I just spent an inordinate amount of my five days in Paris either being frustrated by a waiter, riding the Metro, or viewing works of art. I am considering the monuments I saw to be architectural works of art and the churches also along with the art inside them. Couldn't I have saved myself time and much frustration at visitors taking pictures, using a flash to take a photo, speaking on cell phones (all when they were not supposed to), and being generally irritable in their large groups? After seeing Notre Dame, Sacrè Coeur, and Saint-Chappelle in one day followed by l'Arc de Triomphe, I felt uplifted and wondered at how all these people used so much of their worldly goods (or other peoples) to show their love or worship of God. I know not all of it was genuine, but much of it was and the beauty of it still moved me today. These artisans (whether paid or not) finessed and caressed these statues and plans of buildings until it was transformed into a thing of beauty. These buildings and statues conveyed a love of God or France that carried throughout the centuries. Just looking at the pictures of the churches or the Arch does not convey this. The pictures may be exquisitely framed and taken in perfect light but they cannot connect the audience with the creator of the work in the same way.

I went to l'Orangerie and Centre Pompidou the next day through the much changed weather. L'Orangerie was special to me because it contained Monet's Waterlillies. I have come close to crying only at a few paintings in my life and they were all Monet's or Van Gogh's but mostly Monet. I have only ever shed tears over a Monet. In the Minnesota Institute of Art is a Wheatstacks painting from Monet and it is the only painting I have ever cried at in exhilaration of aesthetic pleasure. In London's National Gallery I have come close with a Van Gogh painted a few months before his death and seen as somewhat unfinished. But many Monet's do this to me including the Wheatstacks, train station, cathedrals, and others. I love many of the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists because of the globs of paint they use. They glob it because they can. Paint was finally available in tubes which made the Impressionist movement possible. Before all artists had to make their own paint and they seemed to spread it as thin as they could. Buy now they could clump it on canvases from tubes. This allowed them to create a scene of the senses and paint a picture that was not exact, but conveyed the feeling of objects. It reminded me of how a feeling of a morning in a field of wheatstacks cannot be captured in a photo, neither can driving through the Alps or Lake Geneva, the Cotswolds, Scottish Highlands, Paris on a Sunday morning, or sailing on Lake Lucerne. None of these can really be captured in a photo and neither can these works of art. You can see the brushstrokes and how the paint was dabbed. You can see how the sunlight caught these dabs and not how they were perfectly lit. You can see the varnish from the old masters ad how the painting still sparkles in the sunlight. All of these efforts of the artists including varnish in their oils to give them a shiny appearance after they oxidize. Oil paints don't dry per se, they oxidize to harden slowly. If the first layer of paint hardens quicker than the top layers, the paint can crack. I saw these cracks, dabs, and reflective varnishes. These artists made these originals and they reflect their care and effort. Through the Musee d'Orsay and the 10 hours we spent at le Louvre, I was reminded of the brilliance of these works but also the brilliant artists behind them. Da Vinci began adding beeswax to his paints to quicken the drying, but before him a few weeks was minimum to wait for a painting to dry. All of these artists had their own formulas for paint and some of the paints darken with time and some reds also fade leaving faces ashen. But you must see the paints in their original to see the artists.

By the end of le Louvre, I was tired of art. I'd seen thousands of paintings, all beautiful, but my mind and eyes were tired. But I needed to keep seeing before I left Paris the next day, so I did.