In 2009, my family and I went to the Chicago Art Institute. We spent hours and hours walking around and just before we were going to call it quits, I turned around to see Picasso's Blue Guitarist. It was probably one of the earliest pieces that I had ever studied (I even reproduced a version of it for my 9th grade Spanish class). It was the first time seeing a piece of art made me cry.
|Van Gogh Vase with Twelve Sunflowers|
Back to Philadelphia. My friends and I were walking around and we entered a room with a fountain the floor. We were joking about the unsubstantial sculpture in the center when I looked up and saw it. I exclaimed, "What? Is that? What??" before running off. It was Van Gogh's sunflowers. Van Gogh is probably the first painter that I ever loved, really loved. I love the thick, texture of his work, his painterly realism, and his saturated palette. My heart swelled with the surprise of finding it there.
|Cy Twombly Fifty Days at Illiam: The Fire That Consumes All Before It (source)|
Do you have any memorable or emotional stories from visiting an art gallery?