Hanging out with Rodin

I was in year six at primary school.  We had an excursion to Canberra which impacted me in two ways.  It showed me that the Australian War Memorial is one of the most special places we have in this country and it introduced me to the work of Auguste Rodin.  (Then Shelley Conrick spilled boiling water on her foot and it all went down hill from there.)

The Sculpture Garden in the National Gallery of Australia has a cast of four of the six figures.  It is a striking work and over the years I have visited the gallery, especially after moving to Canberra, I have always spent a minute looking at it.

It's not just the story of the burghers of Calais, who were prepared to sacrifice themselves to save their townspeople during the seige of Calais in the Hundred Years War, but the amazing power of Rodin's work.  He does hands so beautifully, along with everything else.

Anyway, fast forward to Paris and a visit to the Musee Rodin was always on my must do list.  The museum is located in the Hotel Biron, a house where Rodin lived for a time before his death.  It is an old house, stuffed full of works by Rodin, with a few minor paintings thrown in that he owned (anyone heard of Munsch, Monet, Van Gogh or Renoir?) and a beautiful garden with bigger works in it.

You'll find some familiar friends here - the Thinker and Balzac are in the garden, along with some other very famous works.

Inside there are more of my favourites.

The Cathedral is bigger in real life than you would expect.

And then there is the Kiss.  It is a breathtaking piece and it almost feels like intruding to take pictures of it. (I managed though).

Isn't it beautiful?

Tearing yourself away from this, and the chance to get up close and personal with Vincent (and check out the Munsch)

it is time to head back outside, to where the burghers are waiting.  My apologies that this post is so picture heavy - there could have been more, but I had pity.

I love the dignity of this sculpture.

Look at the hands - aren't they wonderful?

I took pictures from every angle possible and then some.  And then I just sat and looked and was happy. I'll need to go to Calais now, to see them in their natural habitat.  But seeing them in Paris was incredible and I will be forever glad that I did.

Auguste, it was a pleasure spending time with you.

Art Through the Ages - my year 7 art history text book comes to life

Who would have thought that Paris would become an homage to Mrs Viola Winkler, the diminutive Austrian art teacher I had in year seven at high school?  But so it was.  From Notre Dame with flying butresses, vaulted ceiling and rose window, to the collection of Assyrian art at the Louvre, to the wonder that is the Rodin museum at Hotel Biron, 'Art' Paris was full of familiar sights and old friends.

It took a few days to get to my first gallery.  The Musee D'Orsay is an incredible building. While a large part of the impressionist collection was still off display, there were still too many wonderful paintings and artists to list here.  I loved eavesdropping on the various tour guides and picking up interesting little snippets about different paintings.  For example, the famous painting Van Gogh did of his bedroom in Arles is apparently an illustration of his friendship with Gaughin - two hooks on the wall, two pillows on the bed, two paintings.  Another explained the work of Van Gogh and the difference between Impressionists and Expressionists beautifully.  She described, while talking about the picture of the church that Impressionists painted what they saw, but Expressionists were the first to paint what they felt.  It's hard not to feel a bit emotional while standing in the room with the Van Gogh paintings.  Well, hard for me, anyway.  It was a bit of a relief to move on to some of my other old friends - Renoir, Sisley, Cezanne.  It's nice to know that the Musee D'Orsay will always be there for me to go back to.  And I love the rhino in the forecourt.

Then there was the Louvre.  Which is mindblowing and overwhelming unless you take it in small bites.  Obviously there are the big stars - Mona Lisa, Winged Victory and Venus de Milo.  You all know what Mona looks like, but here are the other two.

Then there are some familiar faces that pop out at you - Hello Senor Botticelli, nice to see your work here!

And then there are hundreds and hundreds of paintings, from everywhere.  All old, all incredible, all after a while, blurring into one.  How on earth do the curators choose what to display?

But just when you think you can't take another religous painting, another Madonna, another dark Flemish masterpiece, you stumble across something amazing.  While I was there, the Louvre had a display of Medieval and Renaissance illumination.  I couldn't take pictures, but google Willen Vrelant.  Dating from the 11th century, through to the 15th, this was some of the most exquisite work I had ever seen.  The level of fine detail was astonishing and I felt priveleged to be there and see it for myself.  You can't help but reflect a little on what we create these days.  In six hundred years will anyone stand and look at something we made and say 'what a privilege'?

Anyway, soul restored, I marched on.  Upstairs, around corners, past dour Flemish people, through Napoleon's incredible apartments. (Wow, liked red and gold and sparkly things much?)

Then downstairs, away from the crowds and there were the most wonderful treasures of all.  The Louvre has a collection of Assyrian art.  And in among the collection is one of the other things I remember so clearly from my Year Seven art history text book.

The Human Headed Winged Guardian Bull.  Greatly beloved by Mrs Winkler (you have to say it with an Austrian accent).  Right there, in the Louvre, right in front of me. Dating from about 700BC.  My excitement knew no bounds.

And there was this fellow, another friend from Art Through the Ages.

Nothing else mattered much after that.

(And Rodin deserves his own post...)