The Art Institute of Chicago

Dear who ever will listen,

The first time anyone goes into a museum it seems as if it’s a race against the clock. Scurrying here and there to view as many of the overprized oversized objects as possible. I remember the first time I went to the Art Institute of Chicago. No different than most first time visitors, I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off scrambling to see something. What that something was I was unsure but I was definitely looking for it. As a high school student my knowledge of art was similar to that of a buffoon, but already there was a true passion for the aesthetic object. At the time it was impossible for me to describe what I so enjoyed about art but it just seemed to strike a cord. Even still it’s hard to describe my love for art, but it has something to do with the uncanny feeling of walking through a museum.

I remember going through coat check and trudging up the grand staircase toward what I later learned to be Gustave Caillebotte’s Rue de Paris. As I toured the galleries I remember thinking to myself “I don’t really understand, but I know I like it.” I had seen some of the paintings in books and catalogues before but to finally stand in front of Seurats, La Grande Jatte, or Monets water lilies was something different altogether. It had to do with the lived experience of a painting, and the strange indescribable feeling one gets when looking at something much more than beauty. Being the buffoon I described earlier, I wandered through the galleries in the most counterproductive way possible, jumping from ancient Chinese bowls, to early Christian paintings, down to the miniature houses. But even though I was charting a less than systematic path my experiences grew greater and greater. As the day progressed I was left more and more speechless. It was that day that I wandered down a narrow staircase only to be introduced to the great Bruce Nauman. My first experience with contemporary art was something completely different than La Grande Jatte but oddly left me with a similar feeling. Life had just expanded tenfold and I was about to experience these works for the next four years. I remember thinking to myself as I left that day, “What a wonderful place, a sanctuary for objects and ideas that commingle to create something almost spiritual.”

It’s now been four years and I know quite a bit more about art. Life continues to expand with every visit to the museum. The works of art still hold on to that strange spirituality they did the first day, but now the feeling of a headless chicken is gone. I can appreciate the strange mixture of beauty, knowledge, love, hate, and extreme silliness at my own leisure. Having free access to a museum is a definite perk and I have taken complete advantage of it. By touring the museum almost daily I know the ins and outs as well as any of the curators. Even with museum efficiency I am left speechless. I can speak about what the art does, it’s place in history, what makes it important, and the discussions it has generated, but this is not what leaves me speechless. Once again it’s the lived experience, and the fact that art contains the entire breadth of life within. The museum has given me the gift of art and the gift of art has given me the gift of thought. It gives me a chance to contemplate and question all of life and at the same time forget everything and simply gaze. It is consciousness, absurdity, and passion rolled into one.

Most days I can be found wandering through the galleries. If I’m not looking at the Robert Rymans then I can be found with the Homers, the Gauguin’s or the EL Greco’s. I’m usually somewhere in the museum learning all about life through the process of looking. Sometimes it’s not the art that grabs my attention. I enjoy watching the people that mimic my first day, and the waves of wonder that fill their eyes. Unbeknownst to them they are just as much art as the objects upon the wall. The museum is a special place because it is just as much capsule and vessel for the works as it is a work of art within itself. The general flow of the museum is a thing of beauty, and can only truly be appreciated when reliving the experiences.

Without a doubt the museum has given me a greater education than four years of sitting within stifling classrooms. It’s probably why the museum was founded as a collection for the students. I am truly sad that the time spent within the galleries will be coming to an end. I ask myself how can I keep my education going after school? Am I entitled to the resources I had as student? And can I continue to enjoy the gems of the museum as I once did?

The museum experience is enhanced by the knowledge of free access. Art works can be given the space they deserve without the looming thought of how to receive the best bang for your buck. With uninhibited viewing time the practice of learning through the process of looking can continue. To approach it from a museum education standpoint the most effective tool in delivering art knowledge is through guided tours. With every graduating student comes a mini tour guide. Free alumni access would mean one person free from the burden of entrance into the museum. That incentive might drive families with an Art Institute graduate to frequent more often, in the hopes to bestow knowledge unto non-artists. Loved ones sharing their knowledge of the works of art and the museum can only improve how we think of museum education. People with a higher knowledge of art can create possibilities for the museum to thrive. It only makes sense that Art Institute graduates are given lifetime access into a museum that was originally intended for them.

So with out further ado this spring I will be leading a coalition of students and alumni in a quest to receive their lifetime access. If you are or know a current student or alumni of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago then please pass this on to them. Let them know that a fight for great treasures is on the way. This is the very beginning of the journey and I will be addressing the students and alumni more formally as the process goes along. Understanding the facts and getting the right people on my side will be the first step. Please stay with me.

As of right now the options for museum access to graduating student from the Art Institute is one year.

Sincerely,
A hopeful student

Readers let me know your experiences with the museum and how you feel towards it.

New Year

Dear 2010,

2010 brings another year of hopes and dreams, some that will fail miserably and some that will succeed past any of our wildest dreams. I have mixed feeling on the New Year and what to make of it all.

Looking back at 2009 I can say with a smile across my face that all in all it was a pretty good year. It started off with a new President in office and ended with the passing of a health care bill. Personally I feel as if I accomplished a lot. I never imagined some of the success that came my way. It was a year of planning and building, a slow and relaxing year in which I had the time to figure life out. As I step through the door of 2010 I’m a little sad to see 2009 go, but I imagine ten will be just as good nine. I’m not much of a person of resolutions because I generally feel they are goals doomed from the start.

As I sat last night watching the ball drop I thought to myself of the metaphoric passing of time. To be honest it scared the shit out of me. Life seems like a race against the clock and the decision of what to do yearly becomes a daunting task. I think often of Vladimir from Waiting for Godot.

Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say? It is true that when with folded arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species…

With this in mind I ask myself not what my resolutions are but rather how can I represent worthily. To take on all of mankind would be pointless, that seems so 2011. Instead I can work diligently and spend every moment in the full embrace of life. To define any further seems a resolution. Yes, I too have goals but this New Year I’ll keep those to my self.

I ask you to spend 2010 the same way I will. Whether you will be having babies, or getting married, or just trying to finish school do it with certain determinism. Know that everything you do has great effect upon the world. Don’t think about this as a weight but rather a gift in which great change can be created through you.

So readers really what I’m asking for is response. I write for you. This year my blog will be taking on a little change. My posts within the New Year are going to continue as they did in 2009. They are shorter from now on consisting of five to six hundred words. Occasionally I will write a longer post but nothing will go beyond 1000 words. As well I will be posting more media. I will work diligently to give you fifty-two posts within the next year, tell more stories and to possibly stop bitching so much. I ask you the frequent reader to respond and let me know of your presence from time to time. I hope for my posts to be story forums, I’m interested in how your life relates to mine. And please if you enjoy one of the posts pass it on to a friend. Maybe a posting on Sandwiches can represent worthily the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us better than you think.

So, let me know what the New Year means to you and what is in store for 2010, and please don’t tell me January gym time.

Happy New Year your faithful writer,
Ryan