Sunday, May 10, 2009

Les Champs... Elysées



Today I took a stroll through  the natural landscapes that inspired the genius works of Monet and Van Gogh.  In both spaces, I felt the presence of an omnipresent paintbrush waiting in the clouds above to sweep down and add one last touch to the canvas through which I was roaming.  I was struck, however, by the strange connection I felt to Van Gogh's subject and not that of my life-long love, and new obsession, Monet.  

Strolling through the breath-taking gardens, with new colors assaulting the eye at every turn, I appreciated its beauty, but felt somehow removed, distanced.  Indeed the gardens are exact to Monet's vision, but then, perhaps that is exactly the problem.  They are contrived and sculpted to be tourist-picture-perfect.  Every glimpse must tell of a particular image, an individual painting. I appreciated the glamour of this space, and wondered what awe would overcome Monet if he saw his vision actualized (the gardens were not THIS extravagant in his day---lack of funding) to such degree of perfection.  His imagination, creative genius, especially as exemplified in his Orangerie lilies, is far more stunning in my mind that the inspiration itself.  

As for Van Gogh, however, his fields transported me through to his art and beyond, into my own sort of Elysian
 Fields.  The natural perfection of the wind's soft sweeping across the plain, continued into and through me, filling me not only with a sense of refreshment, but also with a sensation of excitement---no expectations, no anxiety, just understanding.  While each of his picturesque views is marked with a plaque and copy of his famous painting of the place, these fields themselves held a calmer, more personal touch---a literal touch.  I find that it is necessary, when addressing such dimensional art as that of Van Gogh (and subsequently Monet) to have the ability to use all one's senses to absorb and discover the environment, if one's goal is to feel as the artist felt. 
 Nature was never meant to be behind glass, but to be handled, caressed, and above all appreciated by way of experience.    

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