Seeing behind the words to find the real Monet

            I've had the event on my calendar since October – go see the Monet exhibit at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts. Didn't matter that I can't tell the difference between an impressionist painter and a realist painter, I did know the name Claude Monet.

            Search Google for a calming picture to use as a background screen saver, and Monet's "Water Lilies" is usually in the top 10 choices. That picture was my screen saver until my grandchildren came along, but "Water Lilies" remains a favorite.

            So when I saw 50 of Monet's actual paintings were coming to Houston for an exhibition, I couldn't wait to go. But the busy days of Halloween turned into non-stop cooking for Thanksgiving and then Christmas obligations gobbled up December.

            I took advantage of the first Saturday in January and convinced my eldest son and his girlfriend to go with me to the museum. They're world travelers, but they'd never seen a Monet work of art in person.

            Plus I said I'd pick up the costs, so they were happy campers.

            Once inside, we were pleasantly surprised to see "A History of Photography:  Selections from the Museum's Collection." I started taking pictures when I was 18 years old, and I've loved photography ever since.

            I'd read about the exhibit but never thought I'd get a chance to see the display. I studied all the informational cards on the wall, glancing at the photos, and I felt I was definitely getting my intellectual moneys' worth with this short exhibit.

            But the clock was ticking, and I quickly moved through the other rooms, my eyes on the big prize – the Monet exhibit.  I wanted to rent an audio player that would explain each of the Monet masterpieces, but the line was too long.

            I was anxious to see the paintings, so I told myself I'd read all the plaques instead.

            As I stood in front of the second picture in the exhibit, reading all the biographical information, I heard classical music in the background.

            At first I thought the museum was piping in music, but then I noticed people in the next room, watching a young man playing a classical piece on a beautiful grand piano.

            His eyes were closed as his long fingers moved over the ivory keys, and I stood there and absorbed the beauty of the music, forgetting about the details of the paintings printed on those cards.

            I realized at that moment that I'd been wasting a lot of time at the museum reading all those cards. I turned and watched the people moving through the exhibit, most dressed in expensive clothes and shoes, and noticed they, like me, were focused on the informational plaques.

            Many were listening to the audio information in their ears, not absorbing the piano music but absorbing information .

            I realized we weren't taking time to stand back and admire the beauty Claude Monet found in the currents of the Seine River. We'd been so obsessed with reading all the biographical information we'd missed looking at the actual paintings.

            So I stopped reading the placards, tuned into the piano music, and quietly moved through the Monet exhibit without looking at any more informational cards. I simply admired the beauty in those broad brush strokes and marveled at Monet's expertise in painting light.

            I left the museum quite satisfied I'd truly absorbed the museum experience. I wasn't dressed in a $800 Italian dress suit nor could I pretend I was an art scholar or historian.       

            I was a plain, ordinary gal who wanted to see a masterpiece with her own eyes. And because that's all I expected, I received so much more.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.