Art museums are strangely wonderful places—wonderful for offering the communal family somewhere set apart to re-enact the experiences of artists, to assimilate the vicarious provisions of art; and strange, like zoos for paintings, sculptures, and fine crafts, where what was once alive in a natural environment is objectified and confined, roped off, protected by intricate security systems, and sometimes behind thick glass barriers. As museums go, the Accademia di Venezia feels less antiseptic than some—more like the art museum of my childhood and the Italy where not so long ago I could view things from up close without too much interference. I go to the Accademia for a comfortable day-long odyssey through Venetian painting, to wander through a labyrinth of halls and adjoining rooms housed in an attached network of old Venetian buildings—a school, a convent, and a church. It’s where some of my favorite pictures live; works by Tiziano, Lotto, Giorgione, Giovanni Bellini, Mantegna, Cima da Conegliano, and others; where the influence of Leonardo’s sojourn in Venice still feels fresh. This morning, I went to renew my acquaintance with a few old friends, to review my affinity for paintings I try not to miss when I’m in Italy. pp 365-366, TTT
Posted on: Sat, 20 Jul 2013 06:47:58 +0000
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