It was awesome. Since I didn't have to pay a cover, there was none of the pressure to admire art to the point of exhaustion that I've always felt, to a greater or lesser extent, at museums. I just browsed for a while, then skedaddled. Because, I can come back any time I want. And when I bought some postcards? Discount. BECAUSE I'M A FREAKIN' MEMBER, BABY!!!
Based on this experience, I'd have to recommend that you become a member too, if financial considerations allow. Or, I suppose you could set something up with the museum in the city where you actually live. It doesn't have to be the Portland Museum.
Naturally, one begins with Lord Ganesh.
As I browsed the halls, I was again amused to notice how much my attention was drawn to artists whose last names begin with "A" or "B" or "C." I know so much more about them! And while this certainly has a goofy aspect to it, which I will begin indulging in shortly, it also seems to me to be proof positive that the Infinite Art Tournament is working. In addition to being a giddy good time (for me), it's also a helluva arts education.
My opinion of the Beaver State's leading art trove continues to grow. Obviously it's not exactly the Louvre, but it seems to have representative work from a surprising number of the Heavy Hitters. For example, I looked up at one point, and noticed that I was standing underneath a mobile by Alexander Calder!
Turns out that mobiles are really hard to photograph, so I don't know if my effort here will help Calder out any in his current first-round bout against Gustave Caillebotte.
I learned that Sir Anthony Caro, who is currently in first-round action against Vittore Carpaccio, does not work exclusively in big rusty found objects. It seems he also does small, graceful, smooth, designed objects.
I bumped into representatives of both sides of the Boucher/Boudin smackdown. They are hung in different areas, probably to let things cool off after Boucher's narrow first-round victory.
Does this frame make our Boudin look small?
I have to say that Karel Appel, currently held up in a highly suspenseful left-bracket limbo by a tie elsewhere in the tournament, looks pretty compelling in life. (Boucher was unexpectedly impressive, too.)
I even got a chance to grapple with some Basquiat, who has of course already made it to the third round, where he's duking it out with Max Beckmann.
Having been exposed to all this fine artwork, I found myself moved to recover the long-neglected painting that was included in the sale of our home. This meant digging it out from where Mrs.5000 has banished it for the last nine years, hung actually behind the basement shelving. I guess she just doesn't respect original artwork. Anyway, I put it up in my personal growlery, to maximize its chances of survival. By the time you are reading this, the resulting marital power struggle may well have already run its course. Wish me luck.
Awesome, am I right?