Una vez MAS...

Last weekend, second visit to the MAS. To my dismay, I cannot quite claim that my first impressions were confirmed: my conscience is not clear. I must admit to having been uncharacteristically mild. I hereby solemnly promise never again to tone down my critical appraisal in the interest of an inappropriate sense of objectivity.

Là où tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, luxe, calme et volupté. (Charles Baudelaire) 

Upon entering the Ghent Museum of Fine Arts (MSKG), this is what happens: your breathing settles down, and your mind and heart are gently invited to partake of "cette musique occulte plus forte que les malheurs du jour [...,] ce chant voilé qui volontiers s'accorde avec le rythme de la respiration, avec les battements du coeur (Michel Seuphor). You are not told what to see, or how to see it. The ample space and light, and the sobriety of the interior design induce calm, activate the senses.

I witnessed a rare thing. Although the weather was overcast, every now and then the sun peeped through. Inside the museum, I actually saw this modulation of light happening! I don't know if many are aware of it, but this is the very life-blood of painting. The changing light makes the paintings breathe, makes them sing (and, by the way, this defines the difference between a painting and its reproduction). Put this in your pipe, museum curators and architects.

[In the same light, haha, the reproductions of my drawings in this blog give, at a guess, about less than 1% of the original drawings].

Granted, there is probably too much emphasis on 18th and 19th century bourgeois genre painting. But this can be explained by the gravitational pull exerted by the SMAK (Stedelijk Museum voor Actuele Kunst), across the road, on anything that might be considered 'modern'. I don't see why the Museum of Fine Arts could not accomodate the few 'modern' paintings that are now in the SMAK. Last time I had the stomach to look, their Asger Jorn and Pierre Alechinsky were displayed (or strung up) 4 meters up a wall, in a corner against the ceiling. The utter disgust, hardly disguised, with which the high priests of the Church of Contemporary Arts mess about with painting, in total ignorance of its nature, reminds me of the attitude of the Catholic church towards sex. Hands off, I say.

For those of you susceptible to the silent "chant d'Orphée," go and enjoy the Museum of Fine Arts in Ghent. I for one, cannot wait to see the Constable exhibition planned in September.

Greetings.

And here, my drawings of last Friday, 22 July. A slightly rainy morning, yet not cold, and little wind.

2011.07.22.01

2011.07.22.02

2011.07.22.03

2011.07.22.04

2011.07.22.05

2011.07.22.06

2011.07.22.07