A really ROUGH BEGINNING
The first thing I left my apartment to do in Paris was walk a mile underneath the city to look at piles of bones. As morbid as it sounds, this homage to those who died of famine, war, and natural causes reminded me of the softness of life. Of the peace in it. My favorite word in French is “éphèmére,” and beneath the city, it found me: “Thus everything on earth passes away, wit, beauty, grace, and talent, just like an ephemeral flower, overturned by the slightest wind.” This short quote, carved into a stone plaque, was my first sign of home.
Studying abroad can be very lonely, and I found myself sitting alone in my room, staring at myself just as this woman is, and waiting for something to start. She sits longingly, seemingly content with her solitude but not complacent enough to stay there. I wondered, “What is it that she’s getting ready for?”
Faces turned down, seemingly suspended in time, these dancers are standing still and, once again, waiting for the cue that something has begun. Degas was famously a freak, but his ability to pinpoint and depict young women mentally and physically depleted is admirable. These young girls stand, aware they will soon be instructed to be en pointe.
Despite not being religious, I saw many versions of myself in this painting. I saw myself looking to others for guidance, I saw myself mourning what once was, I saw myself searching for a small bit of light. Messonnier drew me in with light, architecture, and the undeniable atmosphere of a supposedly silent church setting. The woman’s mind is visibly alive, as was mine.
I had to include Van Gogh in here at least once, as he is one of my many artists who competes with me in levels of angst. This painting, though, is beautiful. The scene is full of color, of incomplete, fleeting brushstrokes, and people happily interacting atop Paris, in Montmartre. The only issue is that the viewer, me, you, Van Gogh, sit at a distance from the scene. Surrounded by beauty, there is a sense of hopelessness, of a distance of frivolity and love that you can so clearly see. To be sad in Paris, I realized, was not unique to me.
Rodin’s sculptures never fail to captivate, but the anguish in this woman’s face fascinates me. Her body contorts as if in pain, her legs spread but her head turned, as if avoiding some highly anticipated fate. As is the case with many Rodin sculptures, you are the other figure in the art; the one whom she is turning from. I stared at her, wondering if she was a reflection of my homesickness or if I was causing her pain.
This painting rounds out the entirely depressing section of this piece, in which an orphan girl looks outside the frame of her painting, in an almost feverish desire for something new. A young girl, lost but a victim of her circumstances (in my case, the privilege of studying abroad), accepts that she cannot go back, so she must go on. And go on, I did.
AN EXCITING INTERLUDE
These two paintings are full of color; a fluid depiction of the interplay between light, color, and movement. Quite frankly, this piece of art just made me happy. There didn’t have to be more to it — the beauty was enough.
Arguably my favorite on this list, this painting depicts a half-naked woman with braided hair, seated on the edge of her bed. I guess, in a sense, her visible serenity mirrored mine, as I finally felt content with my study abroad. The nakedness reflected my vulnerability but also my comfort — I had found a sort of home. A home full of color, just as Claudine’s is.
This installation is a series of feminist posters, full of color and strong language, calling attention to modern femininity. This reminded me of my passion for language, justice, and love. The energy of the Guerrilla Girls, encapsulated by this commentary of being a woman artist, combines humor with political rhetoric — two of the most invigorating topics for me.
A PEACEFUL GOODBYE
As I fell more in love with the city, with my friends, with myself, I started to see the beauty in traveling again. The Kiss at the Rodin Museum in Paris is reminiscent of the excitement you feel when you first fall in love. This sculpture is exciting, dynamic, emotional, passionate, and beautiful. Sitting between perfectly kept hedges, there is a glimpse of a perfect life just off in the distance, as this work of art reminds me that there are so many things to look forward to. So many different loves to find.
This Cuban artist depicts his lovers, family members, and friends as sculptures made of candy, inviting the museum-goers to take a piece as they leave. This symbolism of the fleeting nature of life, combined with the effects even the smallest interaction can have on any individual, truly inspired me to continue meeting people, even when it was scary, challenging, or altogether uninviting.
This installation involves light, words, sculpture, and time. Sitting in the Tokyo Palais, I found myself enamored with the concept that time is fleeting and I should make the most of it. I managed to visit 40 museums, see 20 cathedrals, travel to 5 countries, and make so many new friends, despite feeling small, lost, and sad. Each piece of art served a purpose in leading me on that journey (see, like my last name), and eventually allowed me to have an altogether wonderful experience.
Finally, a piece of art that I actually saw in San Francisco. I’ve seen this painting in Paris, Los Angeles, and the Bay Area, and coming across this piece at an exhibition at the Legion of Honor truly brought me peace. The woman is self-assured, confident, beautiful, and colorful. She travels the world, just as I did, with the composure of someone who finally found herself.
HONORABLE MENTION:
“Slave of Love” is an insane title for a painting, but this image evokes several emotions. Not the least of which is lust. I found myself missing my boyfriend a lot… and this painting did not help that.