The Louvre

It really is enormous, you know. I mean, you see it from the outside and realize how much space the building physically takes up, but from the exterior it's impossible to fathom how many paintings, sculptures, and artifacts can really be housed in that museum.

This is my third trip to Paris, and probably my fourth or fifth trip to the Louvre, and the place never becomes repetitive or boring. I could stare at the same painting for hours, even days on end, and not become tired of it. Every time I look at one of those masterpieces, especially the gargantuan ones that tower over my head and force me to stumble back to the opposite wall to view them clearly (and even then, in some cases, its impossible) I see something new.

There's a game I like to play when I'm in museums. I'll take a painting, preferably one of the complex ones filled with figures or faces, and make up stories between between the characters. My favourite today was the Death of Sardanapalus. If you look in the background there is a woman being restrained by a soldier, about to be killed. A closer look shows that she is looking down towards the right and if you follow her gaze you find a soldier, agony wrenched across his face. But he is not being tortured or prepared for death. No, he should be doing the killing. Yet, he is staring up at her with a face so horrified that there can be no other emotion but love driving him in this moment. He can do nothing. She will die at the hands of his comrades, and he will watch her blood flow. If this were Romeo and Juliet he would surely kill himself as well, so they could be reunited in the afterlife. But he is not Romeo and he will not die. He will go on living because that is the only thing one can do. And he will suffer and he will hurt in ways unknown to anyone but himself; but he will love again, because that is what living is. To live is to love. Otherwise, what is the point?

I've always wanted to play this game with someone else. I think it would be a wonderful way to gain insight into the way someone else thinks. And yes, I do have someone in mind with whom I would like to play it with. Nevertheless, I must admit that going to the Louvre alone was a refreshing experience. I was on of the few people I saw there alone. It was nice to go at my own pace, however; to stare at a painting as long as I liked and to avoid the galleries I was not fond of (ahem, Broze and Etruscan Age.) I took Art History the year after my second trip to Paris, so there were many paintings I saw in an entirely new light this time around (both figuratively and literally. They moved some of the artwork to new locations in my absence.) I'm thinking of the French paintings in particular. Delacroix's work, as well as David's.

I'm sure other's have mentioned this but the Mona Lisa really isn't much of a sight to see, especially the second or third time around. It's a tiny little thing, and to really appreciate da Vinci's use of sfumato you have to be up close and personal, which considering the large, untamed crowds that flock the segment of wall reserved specifically for this relic, is a challenging task indeed. They do place her in an out-of-the-way location however, perhaps in the hopes that the vistor will walk by carelessly and miss her.

I noticed that that was how many walked through the museum. Oblivious to the masterpieces that surrounded them. Those who had the headsets would stop and listen to the stories about the paintings. But the rest would clip through the Grand Gallerie at a disrespectful pace. I understand that certain types or eras of paintings may not be one's favourite, but the masses of people engaging in this act led me to believe that this was more a result of a general disease than a result of personal preference. Really now. These artists spent years on these paintings. The least we can do is honor them with a few minutes of our time.