There’s been a lot of buzz lately gushing over Renzo Piano’s design of the new Modern Wing of Chicago’s Art Institute since it opened in May, but I’ve just now had the chance to hike down there and take it in. Now, be forewarned that I may be irrationally prejudiced in my comments—I was wearing what turned out to be the most uncomfortable shoes of my life, and it was a teensy bit hard to focus on the architecture when you are developing 5 blisters the size of lollipops. Oh well, they match the mosquito bites all over my ankles. So much sacrificed in the attempt to look arty and chic, vs. crocs and gone to seed!
Photographs of the outside of the building have produced some spectacular images of line and negative space, but from street level, gee, I dunno—looks like an industrial park building to me. Inside, I really really wanted to see the collection, much of which has been “in the basement” for years. We wandered in the door, asked for information, and were told to start at the third floor and work our way down. Getting to the third floor, that was the trick! Asked a security guard, took the elevator he pointed at, ended up on the third floor in the restaurant/drinks area. Can’t get there from here—back downstairs, long walk to another elevator, not the right one either. Another security guard, another elevator. I felt like Pac man in the maze, and needed to sit down even before, on the third try, we finally reached the galleries.
The galleries themselves strike me as being exceptionally well lighted, and glare and shadow free. Although there was quite a crowd, it was easy to move around the rooms, and there’s plenty of space between paintings to take a good look without having to listen to someone else’s ipod. However, I wish my companion’s name had been Ariadne, because I needed a large ball of string to find my way in and out of each gallery, and make any sort of efficient progression from room to room, out of one level and down to the next. Maybe we’re supposed to feel the delight of discovery and surprise, but I like some sort of sensible path, myself. I don’t want to be aware of the route, or need to pay close attention, when I am trying to focus on a display. So, as an interior space, while Piano’s design may work well for the art, it doesn’t work all that well for the humans who want to use it, and thus fails my own personal architecture test.
As to th
e art—it was great to see the Matisse Apples again, as my daughter and I had spent several delightful hours copying it several years ago. (Hint: nonchalantly swipe one of the folding stools and just sit down as if you belonged there. Confine your art materials to colored pencils and paper and no one will bother you.) Also, I really enjoyed seeing the Giorgio de Chirico Eventuality of Destiny. I asked about this painting over 17 years ago, was told it was in storage, and it’s 
been moldering there ever since, to the best of my knowledge. It’s a very interesting work with figures who look like Greek statues, dancing like the Graces, but far out of proportion to the room they’re in, with the ceiling closing in on them. I’m still thinking about that image. I’m not sure it’s entirely serious, although with that ponderous title De Chirico might not have actually been joking, either.
I particularly enjoyed seeing the collection of Joseph Cornell’s boxes. These works resemble the little personal shrines you see in Japan, and I think they do a very good job of focusing your attention down on the artist’s personal iconography and drawing you into an intimate visual experience. There are quite a few of them, and seeing them all together helps somewhat to explain each one. I’m anxious to go back and spend some time just focused on that selection. There’s also some nice Legers, albeit mostly smaller works. The place to see Leger is definitely the Pompidou Center in Paris, where it’s a breathtaking experience to see the Legers in the context of a building that looks so much like them.
After about two hours of wandering (45 minutes of it futilely), we ended up with dinner at the eponymous Renzo Piano restaurant. Delicious, but definitely in the cute food category. It does seem to be a trend that the more you pay for the meal, the less food you get. My companion’s face really fell when the “red plum upside down cake” arrived and it was the size of a spool of thread. All very delicious, but I wasn’t worried about the scale the next morning.
Anyway, it’s a fine collection and well worth a look see. But clutch your map, and, oh yeah, wear comfortable shoes.
Photographs of the outside of the building have produced some spectacular images of line and negative space, but from street level, gee, I dunno—looks like an industrial park building to me. Inside, I really really wanted to see the collection, much of which has been “in the basement” for years. We wandered in the door, asked for information, and were told to start at the third floor and work our way down. Getting to the third floor, that was the trick! Asked a security guard, took the elevator he pointed at, ended up on the third floor in the restaurant/drinks area. Can’t get there from here—back downstairs, long walk to another elevator, not the right one either. Another security guard, another elevator. I felt like Pac man in the maze, and needed to sit down even before, on the third try, we finally reached the galleries.
The galleries themselves strike me as being exceptionally well lighted, and glare and shadow free. Although there was quite a crowd, it was easy to move around the rooms, and there’s plenty of space between paintings to take a good look without having to listen to someone else’s ipod. However, I wish my companion’s name had been Ariadne, because I needed a large ball of string to find my way in and out of each gallery, and make any sort of efficient progression from room to room, out of one level and down to the next. Maybe we’re supposed to feel the delight of discovery and surprise, but I like some sort of sensible path, myself. I don’t want to be aware of the route, or need to pay close attention, when I am trying to focus on a display. So, as an interior space, while Piano’s design may work well for the art, it doesn’t work all that well for the humans who want to use it, and thus fails my own personal architecture test.
As to th
e art—it was great to see the Matisse Apples again, as my daughter and I had spent several delightful hours copying it several years ago. (Hint: nonchalantly swipe one of the folding stools and just sit down as if you belonged there. Confine your art materials to colored pencils and paper and no one will bother you.) Also, I really enjoyed seeing the Giorgio de Chirico Eventuality of Destiny. I asked about this painting over 17 years ago, was told it was in storage, and it’s 
been moldering there ever since, to the best of my knowledge. It’s a very interesting work with figures who look like Greek statues, dancing like the Graces, but far out of proportion to the room they’re in, with the ceiling closing in on them. I’m still thinking about that image. I’m not sure it’s entirely serious, although with that ponderous title De Chirico might not have actually been joking, either.I particularly enjoyed seeing the collection of Joseph Cornell’s boxes. These works resemble the little personal shrines you see in Japan, and I think they do a very good job of focusing your attention down on the artist’s personal iconography and drawing you into an intimate visual experience. There are quite a few of them, and seeing them all together helps somewhat to explain each one. I’m anxious to go back and spend some time just focused on that selection. There’s also some nice Legers, albeit mostly smaller works. The place to see Leger is definitely the Pompidou Center in Paris, where it’s a breathtaking experience to see the Legers in the context of a building that looks so much like them.
After about two hours of wandering (45 minutes of it futilely), we ended up with dinner at the eponymous Renzo Piano restaurant. Delicious, but definitely in the cute food category. It does seem to be a trend that the more you pay for the meal, the less food you get. My companion’s face really fell when the “red plum upside down cake” arrived and it was the size of a spool of thread. All very delicious, but I wasn’t worried about the scale the next morning.
Anyway, it’s a fine collection and well worth a look see. But clutch your map, and, oh yeah, wear comfortable shoes.
