Museum People

I think of myself as a Museum Person. I come from a family of Museum People. I married a Museum Person. I take my kid to museums. We’ve been going to museums for longer than I can remember.

When I was little, we lived in Maryland for a few years and we had (I think) a membership to the Smithsonian. We’d take a museum trip at least once a month: often the National Museum of Natural History, or the NASA Goddard Space Center. Because I was so young, most of my “memories” from these trips come from looking at the photos of my brother and me at the museums in a photo album my parents put together for me. At the time, I thought everyone had access to such great museums. When we moved to Colorado, I was a little surprised that there were far fewer museums available to us; although the Denver Museum of Nature and Science (DMNS) is a pretty good museum.

Going to museums is so deeply ingrained for me that once, in 8^th grade, I took a girl on a date (as much as one can go on a date when one requires one’s parents to drive them) to DMNS. While this date did not go as well as I’d hoped, this did turn out to be a good dating strategy for me in the long run.

Visiting museums was always a staple activity for us when travelling abroad. I’ve been to France several times with my family, and Paris is a veritable gold mine of museums: Centre Pompidou, Musée d’Orsay, Musée Picasso, Espace Dalí, Musée de la Musique (I have never seen so many harpsichords in my life). I don’t know how one picks a favorite.

D’Orsay is probably the first place I ever saw a Van Gogh in person — L’église d’Auvers-sur-Oise. We also visited Auvers (I forget if it was that trip or a later one) and saw the church in person. Van Gogh had long been a favorite painter of mine, but the prints of his work I’d seen did not do them justice. I was not prepared for the texture he created on the canvas with the paint. I don’t think I will ever forget how awestruck I was when I saw L’église d’Auvers-sur-Oise for the first time. Later I would get to see Starry Night at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, but by then L’église d’Auvers had stolen my affection.

I remember that the Picasso museum was a really intense experience. The first time we visited, we spread it out over two days. One visit I think my mom and brother got worn out, so it was just my dad and me, after we finished it was getting late in the afternoon but we managed to find an open café to get some lunch. We were the only people eating, and the woman who ran the place ended up chatting with us (mostly my dad, my French is not great). She explained, vehemently, that you don’t tip in Paris; any place that tries to get you to tip is taking advantage of you for being American because the service is always included in the price.

My wife, as I mentioned, is also a Museum Person. On our first date, I took her to see an exhibit at the Carnegie Museum of Art in Pittsburgh juxtaposing the work of early photographers with their impressionist contemporaries. Later on, she took me to the Mattress Factory and the Andy Warhol museum (not because she’s a great big Andy Warhol fan, but because her capstone project for our masters program was for the Andy Warhol museum).

She and I later ended up living in New York City, which, like Paris, is silly with museums. We had a membership at the Museum of Modern Art, and would also visit The Guggenheim (I think we saw a James Turrell exhibit here), The Cloisters (for an exhibit about playing cards, which I adored), The Brooklyn Museum (I saw the David Bowie exhibit when it was here). I even did a brief stint as the IT guy for the Museum of Mathematics. But one of the coolest museums we ever visited was the Transit Museum in Brooklyn. I love a museum on a niche topic, and I love trains. Did you know that the Dodgers’ name was shortened from “The Trolley Dodgers” because Brooklyn (whence the Dodgers originally hail) was apparently famous for having people dart across the street right in front of the street cars? I know people can look this kind of thing up on Wikipedia, but I learned this fact at the transit museum.

The other coolest museum was the Noguchi Museum in Queens. My wife introduced me to Noguchi’s work and I fell in love with it. The museum, built in his old workshop in Queens, is one of the most peaceful places in the city.

And, of course, whenever we travel, museums are a favorite activity. When we were in Norway for a friend’s wedding, we got to see the Viking Ship Museum and the Munch Museum. It was also during this time of our lives that I was travelling to Stockholm occasionally for work, so I got to see the Vasa Ship Museum as well — alas, my wife never joined me on any of these trips.

Unsurprisingly, we are doing our level best to turn our son into a Museum Person. Although I have not managed one museum trip a month with him the way my parents did with me, we are members of DMNS and it often ends up a part of plans during school vacations. We have also dragged him to the Denver Art Museum for some special exhibits, such as an exhibit of Maurice Sendak’s work and one of Camille Pissarro’s work. He has less patience for these than he does for dinosaurs and space exploration, but he does enjoy painting in their art space when we’re done looking. And I think he really enjoyed The Tangled Self.

The gist of this IndieWeb Carnival seems to be about getting specific with a single memory of a museum. I apologize, I haven’t done that. What stands out for me when I reflect on my time spent in museums is just how big a part of my life they are. I haven’t even mentioned that any time I’m in Philadelphia — usually to visit family — I drag everyone to the Mütter Museum, the oldest medical museum in the United States. Or my visits to the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis. Oh, and the Cartoon Art Museum in San Francisco.

I’ve been so fortunate to have visited all of these wonderful museums. And even though it’s not Paris, or New York City, or Washington DC, I’m pretty lucky that Denver has some great museums of its own. (If you’re ever in Denver, I urge you to visit the Clyfford Still Museum.)