Prior to my last visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the last time I visited this museum must have been several years ago. This made my trip around the museum and its many sections seem almost new and original. Although I enjoyed quite a lot of the exhibits, the first to truly catch my attention was the Etched and Gilded Armor thought to have been made for Henry VIII in 1527 by Hans Holbein the Younger. My father is an avid collector of different weapons and armor from this time period and he successfully passed this interest on to me. The first thing I noticed about this suit of armor is the fact that it is completely coated in gold. As equipment for battle, where a soldier can die at any moment, I found it interesting that it would be made with such valuable material and with such precision to detail. After reading the description and realizing that this suit may have belonged to a king however, this made complete sense. According to the description, it might have been made for a simple presentation for the French ambassador François de La Tour d’Auvergne. I was also amazed at the sheer weight of the armor. Many soldiers wore similar armor during this time period, and even though it provides ample protection from the blows of his foes, it also requires a huge amount of strength and endurance to wear and be mobile in.
This bronze statue was created in Greece during the Hellenistic Period and is dated to around the 2nd or 3rd century B.C. It depicts a veiled dancer in a dress in the middle of her performance. Several aspects of this statue caught my attention. First, I noticed many sculptures around the museum of both men and women in the nude. These impressed me in their attention to detail in the depiction of the most seemingly minor aspects of the human body, creating an image of a person who appears to be almost real. However, after seeing this statue, I realized that creating a clothed person out of whatever material is a lot more difficult, leading me to appreciate this work even more. Not only did the sculptor have to consider the precise details of the human body, but also how the material the woman’s dress was made of would rest on her body in accordance to her shape and posture. The sculptor also successfully captured all of the folds of the dress on the woman’s body, another incredible feat.
The “Little Fourteen Year Old Dancer” sculpture was unlike any I have seen thus far in the European Collection or even in the whole museum. It stood out amongst the typical naked statues of men, women and children that I have seen in this collection. The bronze statue of this very elegant ballet dancer represents beauty and a type of form, specifically in dance. The careful position of her feet and arms show us the proper etiquette of a dancer. The original sculpture by Edgar Degas in 1881 was in wax form of a ballet student in Ballet Opera named Marie van Goethem. The wax form was a more realistic version of this dancer (with a flesh colored tint, horsehair wig, silk ribbon, ballet slippers and a tutu), which depicted the young dancer as more of a copy rather than a representation that it is now.
As soon as I walked into the exhibit of Arts of Africa, Oceania and the Americas, my eyes drifted to these Asmat bis poles. There were about ten immensely tall woodcarvings lined up next to each other. It is impossible not to notice these 18 foot bis poles. Each pole is unique to each represented individual in the Asmat region (Papua Province, Indonesia). Primarily these poles were carved to commemorate the lives of important individuals (usually warriors), and served as a promise that their deaths will be avenged. In their culture, death of an individual was never accidental whether in war or by some magical powers. This created an imbalance, which was corrected by the living killing the enemy. This would usually occur during a bis feast where male elders would go on a hunting raid. Currently, the bis feast occurs to alleviate a specific crisis or for male initiation. These poles strangely enough were intended to be around for a short period of time. After the feast, The Asmat people let these poles rot on the groves of sago palms to strengthen the palms with their supernatural powers. Astonishingly, they were carved from a single piece of wood, typically the mangrove tree, as well as a lot of time and effort to be created. The roots were of the tree carved into the winglike projections at the top of the pole. They represented fertility and signified a continuation of the family/male lineage.
Many past Indian jewelry have been melted down to avoid transmitting the karma of the former owner, and this pair of royal earrings is one of the few Indian jewelry that survived. The floral form of the earrings and the symbols embellished on them symbolizes royalty. The craftsmanship of the winged lion and elephant designs depicts that the earrings were probably worn by royal figures. The elephant and lion are delicately forged on the gold by granules and snippets of wire and sheet. Although they are a pair of earrings, the two earrings differ by their patterns of the fronds. One scene in history in which a figure wears earrings like this dates back to the first century B.C. A chakravartin, or the Universal King, from the stupa of Jagayapettya had the earrings hanging from his ear and resting on his shoulders due to the earrings’ heaviness.
In the photo above, one can see the lion intricately formed on the gold. The lion represents courage and strength, thus emphasizing the ruler’s power. Both the lion and the elephant were considered as royal protectors during that time.
The piece from the Egyptian art collection at the MET that appealed to me was the “Statuette of a Hippopotamus,” created during 1981-1885 B.C.E. This 4 3/8 inch hippo sculpture is made of a quartz ceramic medium called faience, and is painted in a turquoise color with outlines of nature. The sculpture is not completely naturalistic, but depicts the essence of a delicate and slow but strong and lumbering hippopotamus.
This statuette’s function was similar to that of the Near Eastern lamassus, to protect in the afterlife. Senbi II had this hippo sculpture buried with him in his tomb, along with food, models of boats, and a coffin. The black outline on the hippo’s body represent the nature of the habitat that the hippo lived in, among marshes and plants. The turquoise coloring could represent the hippo’s river habitat as well.
But why a hippo? In Egyptian culture, the hippopotamus was “one of the most dangerous animals in the world.” Because of their large size, hippos were hazards to many people using the waters for fishing, trade, etc. In order to control the hippo from also being a hazard to the waters of the afterlife, the sculptor created this statuette and originally had broken off 3 of its 4 legs, (they have been restored by the MET) in order to prevent the creature from “harming the deceased.” Many of the Egyptian gods and goddesses were also depicted as a hippopotamus because of their reputations to be capable of great destruction as well as carry many things. The Egyptian goddess Tauret represented fertility and childbirth, depicted as a pregnant hippopotamus standing on her hind legs as half human, half hippo. The Egyptian god Seth, evil brother of Osiris was also depicted as a hippo because he was the “god of violence, storms, and destructive forces that made Egypt vulnerable.” This object reflects many of the views in Egyptian culture as many pharaohs have brought tangible objects into their tombs to protect keep them prosperous in the afterlife. For example they believed that if a sculptor were to bury the pharaoh’s fortune and a replica of his entire army with him in the tomb, he/she would continue to be wealthy and militarily strong in the afterlife.
I thought that the “Winged Lion” lamassu stood out to me the most at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, because of the naturalistic environment it was in. While walking into the room, two symmetrical lamassi on either side made the area more regal to walk through. The “Winged Lion” also intrigued me due to its immense sense of power within it. This creature has the face of King Ashurnasirpal II and the body of a lion with the wings of a large bird or angel. The mythical combination of generally powerful figures (a lion, the king, and the creature of flight) adds even more power to the sculpture along with the Alabaster medium that it is created out of. This living rock sculpture stares right at you and transforms from human to mythical creature as you travel around the wall.
The “Winged Lion” lamassu was created in 883-859 B.C. during the reign of King Ashurnasirpal II and was a gift to the Metropolitan Museum of Art from John D. Rockefeller, Jr. in1932. After being excavated from Northern Mesopotamia, this 10 foot 3 ½ inch tall structure was placed in front of gateways within the palace, leading right to the king’s throne. These lamassi were to protect and support the Assyrian palaces, towering over the passerby as they enter the small hallway. This lamassu is plays a poignant role in the Near Eastern, Assyrian culture because it shows one of the many ways that leaders in this time period displayed how much power and protection they had in their present time or afterlife.
I’ve been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art around two or three times by now, and the one thing that always amazed me were the Greek and Roman statues. The amount of detail on a statue like “Ugolino and His Sons,” where the anxiety and desperation can be seen clearly on Ugolino’s face, is just extraordinary. I can’t imagine how much time and effort was put into the statue to make the muscle structure, the tonality, and the expressions so lifelike. On top of the amazing sculptures on the first floor, there were also a great number of paintings and pictures as well. Though there was one stretch of paintings where the quality of the pieces were questionable (the term “art” is such a subjective term), many of the pictures were well done. One of the paintings that really caught my eye was Salvador Dali’s “Crucifixion.” It was well-drawn, but to tell the truth, the manner in which it is drawn is slightly haunting. The “floating” effect of the picture left me a little uneasy for some reason. Despite the long treks along the first floor, I enjoyed seeing different cultures mesh together in a grandiose gallery of art. Just like I said with the Brooklyn Museum, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is a must-see for any tourist.
Unlike the other paintings, Autumn Rhythm by Jackson Pollock has no significant meaning when painted. In fact, when Pollock first started painting this piece, he had no idea what he was doing. By laying the canvas on the floor, he introduced a new technique of art that would change the idea of abstract expressionism. He first dripped black paint everywhere on the canvas, then brown, then turquoise, and finally, white. By doing so, Pollock created a rhythm of different sensations and a contrasting depiction of the different lines. There were dark and light lines, straight and curved, horizontal and vertical, and lastly, thick and thin lines.
Autumn Rhythm is a perfect example that exemplifies the idea of accident and control. The dripping of the paint over the canvas was accidental. Pollock did not plan out the painting beforehand, yet the end-result of the painting turned out to be a masterpiece. When looking at the picture, the overlapping of the different lines make it hard to spot any mistakes.
What first attracted me to this painting was that it looked like a mess. Unlike the other paintings in that particular room, this painting did not have a central meaning. It was just black and white lines crossing one another everywhere on the canvas. The overlaps of the different lines, however, produced a melodic feeling. The name of the painting truly matches the essence of its beauty. At the beginning, I thought that Pollock planned the whole painting out, until I read the description. Although I was unable to capture a picture of it, there was a similar painting to this one, also by Jackson Pollock. That painting, unlike this one, displayed an array of different colors – green, blue, yellow, etc. This was the first time in which I have seen an art like Pollock’s.
The quality of the video is bad, but below is a footage of Jackson Pollock at work:
This photograph seemed to really capture its subjects feeling. When I looked at the picture it was like i could feel the two mens emotions flowing from the paper. The photographer, Paul Strand, also depicted the filth and grime of Mexico as seen by the decrepit walls. The man squatting seems as though he is upset with the photographer while the man standing in the sombrero just appears confused. A desolate feeling comes forth from the photograph and a sense of depression can be felt.
This Roman Mosaic was found almost completely intact only recently in 1996 in Tel Aviv, Israel during a highway construction. The mosaic is comprised of animal scenes, most of which are violent, which fits perfectly with Roman culture.You can tell that an extreme amount of craftsmanship was put into the Mosaic. Each tiny square was hand painted and put together one by one to make the grand mosaic that served as a floor in a Roman household.
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