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Showing posts with label Art History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art History. Show all posts

Monday, May 22, 2023

All the Beauty in the World: The Metropolitan Museum of Art and Me

 By Patrick Bringley


Simon and Schuster     2023

240 pages     Memoir

The advance readers copy of All The Beauty in the World by Patrick Bringley sat on my pile of books for several months. It always looked so intriguing, and it kept reappearing on the top of the stack as if calling to me. Finally, I ditched all the books that I was meandering through and decided that this was it. I began to delve into Bringley’s ten years as a Metropolitan Museum of Art guard. And I am so glad that I did.

After a family tragedy, Bringley chose to change the trajectory of  his career. He became a guard, took notes, and has treated the reader to an intimate look at life at the Met. Early on in his job he learned that a day as a guard is “a day of perfect loneliness.” That other than sore feet, this is a perfect job. He sought to learn everything he could about the art in the museum, the way the museum is run, and most importantly who the patrons are that visit the museum. Because, after all, the job of a museum guard is to protect the patrons and the art.

All of this he shares from his unique guard’s-eye view. He chose this job because it was “the most straightforward job I could think of in the most beautiful place I knew.” This job gave him time to grieve his brother’s death, to learn all that he could, and stand still and reflect. And because of his dedication and his note-taking, we have the opportunity to learn and to grow as well.

There are a lot of facts that the reader has to wade through, including statistics about the 2000 employees and the 600 guards, many of whom come from Guyana, Albania and Russia. Bringley tells us a lot about the visitors to the museum. He outlines the three types of museum visitor: there is the sightseer who is sort of along for the ride; the dinosaur hunter who primarily is looking for entertainment and big stuff; and then there are the lovers—the art lover here for an exhibition, the art lover who really loves the museum itself; and the lovebird, who move through the museum looking for peace and joy. (I believe that I have represented every one of those types of viewers at some time in my life.)


Most importantly, Bringley tells the reader about all that he learned in his ten years at the Met, including the paintings and other art works that meant a great deal to him. Each of those art works are documented at the end of the book. He has suggestions for when to visit the museum and how to arrange a visit. He says, “You may not have words to describe your sensations, but try to notice them anyway. Hopefully, in the silence and the stillness, you’ll experience something uncommon or unexpected.”

In a much younger year of my life, we were in Paris. We got caught up in the Modern Art Museum and spent hours as lovebirds. Suddenly we realized that we had not been to the Louvre and it was getting close to closing time. We ran across the street and said breathlessly to the guard, “Ou est la Mona Lisa?” Apparently this was not the first time that breathless visitors had asked that question, and the guard personally led us to the painting. Bringley would have called us dinosaur hunters. I have also gone to art museums as a sightseer, not particularly looking for anything, but just out for the sights.  And when the Van Gogh exhibit was at the Chicago art museum, my daughter and I drove to the city for a day and only went to that exhibit, another type of art visitor, the exhibition visitor.

When you are totally engrossed in a book, you often find examples all around you. I discovered several Freakonomics episodes about art museums and stolen art. I watched The Thomas Crown Affair and focused on the museum guards who are prominent early on in the movie in red suit coats, and today I watched From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, which is about a brother and sister who run away to the Metropolitan Museum. The book of the same name by E.L. Konigsburg is 55 years old, and both the book and the movie are charming.

There is so much to absorb while reading All the Beauty in the World. I felt like I just kept growing and growing, yearning and longing for such wonderful growth experiences. The NPR reviewer says that the book “reminds us of the importance of learning not ‘about art, but from it.’ This is art appreciation at a profound level.”

Patrick Bringley’s website. He even gives private tours of the Metropolitan Museum. That would be something amazing to do on a visit to New York.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Oil and Marble: A Novel of Leonardo and Michelangelo



by Stephanie Storey
Arcade    2016
345 p.      Historical Fiction

Make sure you have access to the Internet  before you begin reading Oil and Marble by Stephanie Storey, because you will spend a great deal of time looking for images of the works of Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and Botticelli, among others. Storey has created a well-imagined rivalry between the fifty-year old Leonardo and the much younger Michelangelo. When the novel begins, both have returned to their home city of Florence to begin new projects.

Leonardo had fascinating interests—from science to painting. The narrative emphasizes the plan he had to reroute the Arno river, so that ships could get from Florence to the sea. He is also fascinated with the idea of flying, and devised a plan for a flying machine. 
At the same time he is on this creative journey, he receives commissions from the city to paint frescoes on public buildings, which he works at sporadically. His primary obsession, during these years, is a young wife of a successful silk merchant. Her name is Lisa Gheradini, and Leonardo convinces her husband to commission a painting of her—the painting that became the enigmatic Mona Lisa.

Michelangelo's obsession is a huge block of marble owned by the city. He had just returned to Florence from the successful completion of his statue, the Pieta, in Rome. Surprisingly, for a relative unknown, Michelangelo receives the commission to sculpt a statue from the gigantic hunk of marble. He decides to create a statue of David, slayer of Goliath, and he dedicates all his energy to its creation—an effort that nearly costs him his life. The David statue came to symbolize the strength of the city of Florence and set Michelangelo on a path to artistic super stardom.


The New York Times reviewer calls Oil and Marble a "richly imagined tale," and indeed the novel is eminently readable. Storey really knows her history, and she manipulates her knowledge gracefully so that it tells a cohesive story. Even though I have been to Florence and seen David, and to the Louvre to see Mona Lisa, I had no idea that both artists were living and working in Florence at the same time. Of course Storey took dramatic license with the plot and the historic figures involved. Even Machiavelli plays a manipulative role in the story line.

I was particularly drawn to the concept of creativity, and how these two men exemplify the spirit of the times and of the creative movement in Florence, in particular. The early 1500s were an amazing time in Florence, and the two men were so fortunate to be part of that era. One quote from the novel about da Vinci speaks to his creative potential: "Leonardo believed in potential like many men believed in God." The scope of his creativity knew no bounds. I was fascinated with the way Michelangelo let the stone speak to him, and after he decided to sculpt David out of the stone, he found that he was asking David to speak to him through the stone, guiding his hand and his hammer.

The rivalry between the two men is a secondary story line, but a powerful one. It reminded me of the rivalry between Mozart and Salieri as it was depicted in Amadaeus, although in the case of da Vinci and Michelangelo, both of them created iconic representations of the times—neither was a secondary player. 

Another minor plotline, but also a powerful one, is da Vinci's idea about redirecting the flow of the Arno River. With my ever handy Google, I found that this was, in fact, true. The construction project failed, and much land was wiped out by a flood, killing many people. Leonardo's shock and grief over the failure of the project is exciting and horrifying at the same time—one of the best written sections of the book. The plotline involving Lisa Gheradini and Leonardo's obsession with her is not as well developed and much less believable. 

It has been at least 45 years since I was in Florence, but Oil and Marble really made me want to return. I loved the city. Storey has made the city of Florence in the early 1500s one of the characters in the book. The book is perfect for lovers of history and historical fiction, art, and excellent character development.

Here are 10 top questions about the creation of Oil and Marble.