Museum Narrative

Grasping my father’s hand as a child while dancing through the crowds of New York City tourists brought me joy. My father was often very adamant about visiting museums in Manhattan on his days off with me, knowing it was one of my favorite things to do. Through these countless trips to the MET, MoMa, and, our personal favorite, The Whitney, I came to appreciate all different types of art at a young age. I grew an extraordinary interest in my now favorite artist, Edward Hopper, due to the stories each of his paintings tell. Each museum we encountered left a mark on us.

As I entered the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, I was taken back by the overall architecture of the building. It was my first time visiting the Guggenheim and I was excited to learn what it was all about. My neck strained as I walked into the front doors, trying to capture all of the beauty of the interior of the building. As we began to congregate for our tours, I noticed a man wearing vibrant abstract art socks, who ended up being our tour guide. Our group followed this energetic man up the continuous, windy ramp, of which the museum consisted of. He began to narrate the story of the Guggenheim, how it was constructed and the people that made it happen. He put emphasis on the revolutionism of the Guggenheim itself, and how influential a handful of artists were towards the expansion and appreciation of abstract and surreal art.

We stopped at the first painting, Vasily Kandinsky’s Landscape with Red Spots, No. 2. The tour guide began to explain how influential Kandinsky was towards the revolution of abstract art. He detailed the artist’s life, putting emphasis on certain aspects, allowing the observer to understand the piece and the artist’s intentions to another level. The guide mentioned that Kandinsky studied law in order to work as an advocate for other abstract and surreal artists. Compared to the small label next to the painting itself, the tour guide was able to personalize the artists and help me understand the meaning behind the painting and the gallery as a whole. Without the help of the guide, I wouldn’t have understood how revolutionary this art was at that time.

Understanding the meaning behind a painting, sculpture, or even an entire museum itself, is almost impossible without some sort of narrative. Whether it’s that little plaque on the wall that gives you a brief summary of the work of art or if it’s an actual tour guide with unlimited amount of knowledge on the subject, a museum needs description. If I were to create a museum, the collection of works would have to flow together. The collection would tell a meaningful story, each piece adding onto it, as the Guggenheim did so effortlessly. My museum’s narrative would be interactive, allowing the observer to understand and question the artist’s intentions. All of my favorite museums left me understanding something that I didn’t before, and all of my favorite artists have opened up their own world to me through their creations.

 

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6 comments

  1. I liked hearing your story about going to museums with your father, so sweet! Maybe you could start up the tradition again. I agree with you about museums and their artwork needing descriptions, I’m not much of an artist so without the plaques I’m hopeless at understanding art. Having a tour guide that day was such a treat because I got to learn so much more than I would’ve had I gone there by myself. I also really like your idea for a museum, I would definitely want to visit it.

  2. Hello! The story you told in the beginning of this piece about visiting museums with your father told a very interesting story on its own. I really appreciate you sharing that with us, because it proves the huge impact museums are capable of having on us. While my experience at the Guggenheim had not been so overwhelming, I appreciate the potential museums have in shaping our viewpoints on the world. I can tell that you have a passion for art and I commend you on that; modern works don’t always resonate with me!

  3. It was great reading about your shift in perspective regarding the Guggenheim. I think this reflection can appeal to many people who are not artistic experts because yet they still appreciate the aesthetic and emotional affect of art.
    I agree with you in regards to the skylight, it was really great! The natural lighting certainly helps create a warm atmosphere that brings the paintings on the blank walls to life.
    I think an out door area or cafe and an interactive area would be great additions. People can enjoy sitting out, right by central park. I also think a greater interactive zone would make the museum more kid friendly. This would make family outings to the museum enjoyable and convenient.

  4. It is always so intriguing for me to read the perspective of someone who has never visited the Guggenheim. I have been there multiple times, but every time I went was a different time period in my life. I believe that both tour guides must have been very effective at showing their perspectives as well as wanting us to get in touch with our own ideas. If I were to go to the museum on my own and see Kandinsky’s work years ago, I probably would have walked past it and scoffed while saying “Anyone can do that”. However, can everyone really do this? I would not be able to blend like him, our art would not be identical. Also, I would wonder what story I would be telling in comparison to his. I have found a new interest in coming in touch with my own views about certain works, because my perspective of something seems to open up what my world view is.

  5. I love how you began your response to your Guggenheim experience with a personal memory. One of the keywords I wrote for the narrative of my ideal museum is the word personal. Just like u perfectly stated, I would want to create a museum where the observer is able to relate or “understand and question the artist’s intentions”. Additionally, your detailed descriptions left me with vivid pictures of your day at the museum.
    Great work,
    Andrew Langer

  6. When I first looked at Vasily Kandinsky’s Landscape with Red Spots, No. 2., I didn’t know what it was called. Looking at it up close, it was a lot of random “shapeless” shapes. Now as I look at your picture at a distance, I can clearly see a landscape. I see plenty of mountains and maybe a sun in the background illuminating the scene. I’m curious to know if the “red spots” in the name are bursts of sunlight at sunset, because I see a lot of orange and red, which would remind me of either sun rise or a sunset