una calle en espana

So this last weekend I went to Spain. One word encompasses my trip there- beauty.

THis is the first week I haven't gone somewhere for the sole purpose of observing art. THis, however, did not limit my ability to experience art. I walked down street after street of beautiful Spanish architecture. THe colors of the buildings were suttle blues, peaches, pinks, and creams. I fell in love with it. I realized that the colors of the old buildings had a positive affect on my mood. The sun created shadows on the walls and for the first time these shadows made me think "beauty." I wish I had a better word to use, but that is the one that kept popping into my head.

I realized as I came back to Oxford that light and shading affect moods. I am drawing the connection between paintings and real life. As I walked down the street yesterday, the sky was overcast and I felt "blah", for lack of a better word. Don't get me wrong- the buildings and people filling the streets were still just as beautiful, but I realized as I walked that I became more contemplative and deep in thought. I become more solumn and reflective. Today, I was walking down the same street and the sun was out shining and the sky was bright blue and I felt like everyone around me could see the smile booming from my face.

I am beginning to realize that where I am experiencing art, whether through a painting or through a walk in God's beautiful creation, I can be affected by it if I let myself. I realize that light and shading have everythign to do with how I personally amd affected by any type of creation, be it GOd's or be it man's.

a walk in the streets

This past week I did not go to any museums or anywhere in particular for the sole purpose of viewing art. I have realized however

Crazy Modern

This weekend we went to London again. Instead of going to the National Gallery and the British Museum, we went to the Tate Modern. HOLY SMOKES! I loved it! I have not been to a modern art museum in such a long time. The last time I went to a modern art gallery, I was too young to understand or appreciate it. This time I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I regret to say I only was able to stay a little over an hour, which hardly long enough to being to scratch the surface of the artwork there.

Once again, my attention was drawn to the paintings. I found myself being drawn to paintings with bright color schemes and a lot of black in them. Also, the less distinct the shapes, the better. I tended to gravitate towards paintings that had a splashed look. On my favorites, I could see places where the hand of the artist had smudged or drug his/her hand along to piece.

I realized that this art is so very intimate. THe focus, for me, was the more the painting process of the artist. As I stood in front of pieces I learned to just "be" and marinade in the art. I put my ipod in because I wanted to feel like I was alone. It was a time of introspection for me. I thought about how in my time here I feel I have become more enlightened. Art is so much more important to me. I have never been challenged to think about art much at all, much less think of art intelligently. It is so exciting to me because I feel the longer I am here, the deeper my connection with the art, the deeper my connection with the culture and the people. Art is something that is so much a part of life here, that it is not something people recognize, it is just part of who they are. THat is my take on it at least.

I am excited for my appreciation to grow more. I am so enjoying all of this learning, being emersed in a culture of art apprectiation. Also, I am going to start painting when I get home- just for myself.

We Live in a Beautiful World

This past week we did not go to any new museums or anything, but we did go to the Ashmolean again. At first I was not excited about it because I felt like I had seen all there was to see. Once I got there, however, I turned on my ipod and began to listen to some relaly mellow music. I must admit, I did not have the best attitude when I first got there because I was tired and had a lot of homework to do. As I started to look around the Ashmolean again, the beauty struck me again as if I was seeing it for the first. THis time, there were new pieces that caught my attention that I had glanced over previous weeks. There was one with the Shephards sitting on a hill looking at JErusalem. I hit me that this was something they had waited to see their entire lives, and all the could do was sit and stare.

This week I have seen beauty in so many things. I have learned that architecture is something that truely catches my eye as a breathtaking art. The detail on the abbies we have visited is phenominal. When I see this man-made art, i can not help but notice the creator of art. His pieces of art are the artist. We are his artwork and he gets to chanel his art through us. Perhaps this is what it means when scripture says we have the "mind of Christ." We get to see things how he sees them and then we create art from His inspiration.

True to the Son

This past week I had the amazing opportunity to go to the British museum AND the National Gallery in London. The British museum was great and I was especially drawn to the Greek section of the museum. The artifacts from the Parthenon and the archetecture were absolutely beautiful. I love to see the detail carved into every area of the building. I love the theme of perfection with the Greek sculptures. As I was looking around at the "fit" Greek bodies, I remembered that Grecians were very competative and hosted many games and athletic competative events. It seems that they prided themselves on their built, in-shape appearances. Ok, enough about that- it was just fun to make the connection even though I'm sure almost everyone knew that already.

Now, the National Gallery. This was my favorite part of the whole time I spent in London. We literally stayed at the museum for three hours. When I was little, I never would have dreamt I could do such a thing. The crazy thing is- I loved every moment of it. I could sit here and write for hours because there was just so much to take in. I can't wait to go back because it was almost overwhelming. Scratch that- it was overwhelming. Though I could write this whole blog over the time there (and probably fifty million more blogs), I just want to point out one thing I noticed that day...

We talked in class about how there is so much Christian or religious art in British history- I love that! But, I must admit I was a little disheartened when Professor Wiggins pointed out the reasoning behind it. He asked us, "who was the ruling power during that time?" and of course the answer is the Church. If the church owned everything and controlled where government money was spent, consequently, the artists would make things the Church would buy/support. This frustrated me because I had been so moved before when I had looked at religous art and I thought it was so awesome that people had these important things on their minds. I loved the thought that people were free to paint whatever they wanted, and they choose to make paintings of Jesus. When I found out that many painters probably painted these things to make a living and appease the Church, I couldn't help but think less of the holiness I had felt about paintings I had seen before.

This is the cool thing, though...

When we went to the national Gallery, I stood in front of a painting of Jesus that literally made me cry (another thing I never would have thought I would ever do). I was so incredibly moved by the expression on his face, that I could almost hear him talking to me. it made me long for when I get to see him face to face and just be in his presence all the time. I realized as I kept lookingthat day that there were other paintings of him and/or Mary and the disciples that moved me. There were also many that of the same things, from world renown artists even, that were beautiful, but hardly moving (to me). They seemed cold and lifeless. I was able to make clear distinctions of those that were painted for the purpose of the Church, and those that were painted out of an intimate spiritual connection. When the connection was there, the atmosphere around the subject(s) of the painting was emotional and the facial expressions spoke ever so loudly.

Anyway, that's enough for now. Like I said, I could write about this for days.

peaceadeace