Postcard from The Good Life

Over the 32 months of blogging since I went to Jordan, I have included among my bons mots travelogues of my various trips, from daytrips to Roman-era Jerash, to weekends in Istanbul, and a Thanksgiving in Budapest. Way back last fall Julianne and I had looked forward to shepherding my art history students on an art history extravaganza trip to New York for Spring Break 2010. I loved the itinerary I came up with—showing them, among many treats, the medieval-like Cloisters in upper Manhattan to the Brooklyn Bridge at the other end. We had looked to house our KA students with Hackley families, not only as a means of making the trip more affordable, but also to forge some bonds from our beloved Hackley with our new students in Jordan. At the core of the trip was going to be a couple hours every day at the giant Metropolitan Museum of Art, using the encyclopediac museum as the greatest study guide for the upcoming AP Art History test.

Well, as they say about the best laid plans…about five weeks ago we ran into some snags with the planning of the trip, and we had to abandon these great plans. I had a coterie of dynamic, exciting students to whom I had hoped to introduce my favorite city on earth, as well as welcome former students from Hackley for some of our tours. I had already done planning for the work at the Met, and so I thought, why not send a “postcard” from the trip that never happened!

So tonight, as we would have been boarding a plane back to Jordan, I thought I would offer an imaginary tour of what would have been our first introductory tour of the Met.

Over the course of our week in New York I planned that we would visit the Met six times, studying everything from the votive figures from ancient Sumer all the way to a 1990s painting by Anselm Kiefer. I thought the first day we would eschew the typical chronological tour and I wanted to stimulate thought pondering the elements of The Good Life. How did various art works in the Metropolitan raise issues, or provide clues, or urge us to consider what truly was a good life??

Join me on our tour…

We ascend the grand staircase at the Met, and meet in Room 27 in front of Anthony van Dyck’s portrait of Lucas van Uffel, a Flemish merchant. I start with the most pressing, and obvious, question: what do we see? Swara, ever the curious and willing participant, would have looked at all the props on the table, and noted that this 17th century man was clearly broadly and liberally interested in things like shipping and mathematics. Abdullah, the keen actor, would have noticed his pose, ready for action in an active world. Dima, the wise-beyond-her-years sophomore would have noted the globe, reminding us that Lucas is interested in the heavens as well. Haya, the budding fashion designer, would note the elegant black outfit and consider how much fashion and good taste mattered to him. Ghaith, a student who notices details, would comment on how the classical bust shows off his knowledge and interest in antiquity. Ghassan, a scholar of the first order and a lover of music, would note that he also cares about music. The 25 of us would study how van Dyck hoped we would look at all the trappings of van Uffel’s life and realize that he certainly embodied “the good life” of the intelligentsia.

We would move a room away and encounter Pieter Brueghel’s The Harvesters. Mohammad, an earnest young man, would jump in making comparisons with the van Dyck piece, and his buddy Hamdi would compare this to other Brueghel works we had studied before. Thaer, an anarchist or future government minister (or both??) would urge us to consider how honest, hard work also is the good life. Jamil, funny, sly, tender, and strong scholar, would remind us that Brueghel’s works are also usually subversive—how can subversiveness be the good life?

Haya probably stayed behind in the first room—she would have discovered the enormous Tintoretto high up on the wall. We would traipse back, and yes, this work also fits in with our theme. The work is Tintoretto’s The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes and Haya would have been struck by the frothy costumes of the participants in this Bible story. Tala, the insightful and pensive thinker, would offer that Tintoretto showed how the fashionistas of the day would have fallen in love with the contemporary clothes, giving credence to the Bible story and that this “miracle” was not just a Bible story, but clearly “the good life.” Haya is not just a fashion maven, but she loves using the clothes as clues as to the society.

Jude, the irrepressible and beloved Jude, would be motioning us into the next room. “I see a Carravaggisti,” she would crow. “Look at the use of tenebrism!!” Raya would recognize the art work from a recent test and scream out his name. Yasamin would show off her knowledge of 17th century use of light, and notice how this French artist,Georges de la Tour, is showing off his virtuosity with the candle and the mirror. My battling “Danas”—different in temperament, but both indispensable and memorable,would duel in explaining the importance of this Mary Magdalene. One would notice her jewelry cast onto the ground, and one would notice the skull in her lap, and the pensive and calm look as Mary considered which life was the most good.

Rob—hardly quiet all this time, but looking for the Dutch works (“They’re the best, the Dutch are just the best!”) finally found a worthy contestant in our contest for the Good Life: Rembrandt’s Aristotle Contemplating the Bust of Homer. Which life is better? Then they would weigh in—is the better life the life of teaching and service, or the life of wealth and power like Alexander. The quiet but brilliant brain Hamzeh would notice the chain around Aristotle’s neck and wonder about the “chains” that always come with wealth and power. Suhayb would usher us into the next room showing us the gorgeous and meditative Vermeers and paintings of Dutch flowers and vanitas. This crowd would compete for noticing the exquisite details and savoring the quotidian beauties of the Dutch reflections on the good life.

We lighten the mood with a pair of Boucher paintings from the French rococo. Again, the competition rages to decode the bawdy, randy, titillating paintings for the French nobility. What a contrast from the circumspect Dutch—yes, Dana, I know you were the first to say it out loud. Another dollop of genius from you, dear!

It is time to change the medium of art—we leave the European paintings and make our way to the newly reopened period rooms of American furniture. As we stare at the gaudy loggia from the Tiffany estate: this is an example of more is more and obviously opulence is their key to the good life. Several would hope to live in an estate worthy of such an architectural feat. Thaer would grumble and offer some Communist rhetoric!

Next we move through the rooms to find the simplest room of all, a room from a Shaker household in a 19th century New York home; Swara would comment about how this was the opposite of the Vanderbilt and Tiffany folderol, and that their aim was to live an austere life, and that the good life was indeed one of an unfussy simplicity. Swara would offer us a mini-essay as to how this room fit into the tour and offered us a contrast of obvious over-done and quiet simple beauty.

We need to leave the western world for a bit and we move through the Japanese Galleries “Hey,” Jude notes, “this Sho-in room is exactly like the Shaker family room!” and Suhayb launches into an intelligent comparison of the “less is more” aesthetic.

Finally we end up in the Astor Chinese Garden Court, a facsimile of a courtyard in the house of a Chinese magistrate. Faisal joins in the chorus noticing all the elements of Daoism in the courtyard—all the opposing forces that meet and provide a harmonious balance to the space and to life. Abdullah, kind of improvising as a Chinese magistrate, muses about how he would come home from a hard job on the bench, retreat to this serene courtyard, free of “toys” and gadgets, and simply ponder the power and presence of the natural world. How does this measure up to the good life? We joke about how Oprah and Dr. Phil are actually Daoists, and that so much of their TV shows are about how the good life is about relishing the journey and noting our place on the path.

It’s almost time for lunch, but let’s do one more art work…back to European paintings and to a quiet Vincent van Gogh. This is one of my favorite paintings. I often give a reproduction of this to friends who have just had a baby. It is about watching a child taking his first steps. It is a simple, powerful triangle of an anonymous family: a mother looking down at her son, the son stepping forward, and the father a few feet away celebrating the triumph of babyhood. Nothing fancy, nothing about math or science, or wealth or nature, just the joy of a family and the evolution and transformation of children.

There is so much more to see, but we need a break. We need the open air of Central Park and a hot dog on the sunny, spring-like day.

No, the tour never happened…but in my mind we enjoyed ourselves beyond measure and maybe even wondered a little as to what does constitute a good life—what better celebration of art and camaraderie!