Yesterday I decided to go to the MOMA. Every regular day it’s an $18 admission but, on the first Tuesday of every month it’s FREE! I put my happy little camera in my pocket, laced up my new shoes, sent my group off on a City Search and started the walk. It’s about a mile down Market to Third St. from Civic Center. The MOMA is tucked off to the side across from a ½ block of fountains that were also very beautiful.

At the door a red-bearded guy was handing out tickets. I checked my (too)heavy bag – what a relief, I love places that take my bag for me – and wandered up the huge staircase. Oddly enough there was a little bit of a line to get onto the stairs because there was a lady there checking tickets. I kind of wanted to tell her look lady, it’s free today, did you miss the memo? But no, she was checking tickets, so I showed her mine (it said ADULT $18 on it so I guess that made her happy) and got in.
My tour started swimmingly when the first room I drifted into featured a Frieda Khalo and Diego Rivera side by side, both painted while they visited San Francisco. I drift through art museums. The tiny type-A portion of my brain tries to scope out the layout of museums, hitting every single room and a frenzy to see everything. I try to squelch that part. Instead I drift. I linger in front of pieces that capture my attention and usually if there’s a bench I take it as a sign to sit and absorb the paintings in that room, even if I wouldn’t have otherwise. I get mesmerized by some amazing stuff that way.

The WORHOL exhibit was up, filling up the third floor. I had never seen a Worhol before, and here were dozens of them! Fabulous.

I also found myself absorbed by the people who were looking at the art. There were all kinds of people wandering around. I think the free admission drew people that might otherwise not have been able to fork out the admission cost. The people walking the museum alone were the most interesting. They were from all different ages and backgrounds and were just being consumed by looking at art. Everyone there was so fascinating and the art pieces themselves took were different pieces altogether when seen through the people watching them. I sat beside one man for a while looking at this (link coming soon!) piece. He sat as thought He was waiting for the piece to move. And it did! I found myself flooded by the orange ambiance. The tension between the purple and orange pulled me in. I think the man I was sitting beside felt it too. We sat for a while, just looking.

It’s funny that these pieces are just hanging in the MOMA. It’s funny that on most days of the week people need to pay outrageous amounts of money to go see them. And it’s funny that people do it. Even though it was a free day, the people there were paying something. They paid what it cost them to get there, they paid the cost of time, they walked around in huge circles, up and down stairs, looking at art just hanging there on white walls. A dear art professor once told a class of mine that art is very rarely painted to hang in museums. Much of the great art in the world has spent much of its life hanging in living rooms, studies, and private art rooms. With the evolution of the museum art became public. I can wander into a room and look at a Khalo, Revira, Picasso, and Matisse within ten minutes. Is it beautiful, or is it a corruption of the artwork? Like I mentioned, art’s environment changes it. I looked at Rivera’s Laborers differently alone n a white wall than when, hanging on that same wall, a little boy steps in front and is told by his Spanish-speaking mother that they have a print of that piece at home. It would, of course, look much different in its original standing, shouting out to the reality of common laborers as people, worthwhile subjects for a famous piece.

Well, that’s about all I have to say about art this morning. I’m going to the food bank with my kids today, then Harbor House Day Camp (yay!) then we have our last Host and Directors family dinner tonight…yipes!