Tag Archives: Art Institute of Chicago

The Museum

This week, to round out Season 3 of the Wednesday Blog podcast, a few words about my love for museums. — Click here to support the Wednesday Blog: https://www.patreon.com/sthosdkane


This week, to round out Season 3 of the Wednesday Blog podcast, a few words about my love for museums.


I learned about our cosmos from visiting museums and reading books as a child. Where my books could thrill my imagination into creating whisps of wonders that would dance about my mind and keep me enchanted during the quieter moments, museums offered me the physical embodiments of many of those same wonders. The older Irish word for a museum is iarsmalann, or “reliquary.” Museums, the seat of the muses of the Ancient Greek cosmos, are where we house our greatest treasures today. They are places which the public can visit and learn about our human world and the natural cosmos it inhabits. Museums are seats of knowledge where we can wonder about a great many things that otherwise would not be accessible to us.

My favorite museums to visit are the ones I return to the most. From my youth, I loved wandering the halls of Chicago’s Field Museum and Art Institute most. In the acknowledgements of my dissertation, I will note that it was in the Field Museum as a small child that I first experienced wonder, and that that is where the passion, beauty, and joy that drives my career and my life today began. One of my last truly awe inspiring visits to the Art Institute was in January 2019 on the last day of the American Historical Association’s meeting at the Hilton on South Michigan Avenue. That afternoon as I wandered around the labyrinthine halls of the Art Institute, I was struck at how endearing I found the Early Republican galleries, rooms which previously I’d been frustrated by because I still have trouble finding my way out of them. I’ve returned to the Field Museum more in the following years both to wander the halls and to remember all the joyous times I’ve had in that building as a child, a teenager, and now an adult.

Here in Kansas City, my favorite museum by far is the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. When we first moved to Kansas City, 25 years ago this summer, my Dad took me to the Nelson in hopes of filling that role that the Field Museum had for me back in Chicago. As I grew and matured, I found myself returning to the Nelson more and more, seeing the same art each time sure, but more so appreciating the constancy of that art than anything else. In the last six years I’ve grown to love the Kansas City Zoo & Aquarium as well; perhaps the Zoo is a better equivalent locally to the Field Museum with its dominant focus on the natural world over anything else. I think of the Zoo like another sort of museum, a living and breathing museum situated in the expansive wooded grounds of Swope Park. One of my dreams is to contribute a museum to Kansas City, ideally a natural history museum where my own particular contribution would be in a History of Science gallery.

Elsewhere, during my year in London I fell in love with many of that city’s great museums. I became a member of the British Museum and would often walk there from class and spend my afternoons wandering and loving how much I could learn there. It was on these visits to the British Museum that I decided to do my doctorate in History or Classics; I settled on History as you know, though I ended up in the Renaissance in part because of my love for the Banqueting House on Whitehall and Hampton Court Palace, two expansive palaces now turned into museums by Historic Royal Palaces. Initially, I wanted to study Roman history and focus on how the concept of Roman citizenship expanded as the Republic’s and later Empire’s borders expanded outward from the City of Rome. Yet, I instead decided to settle in the Renaissance, a period that seemed to me to evoke some aspects of the idealized Rome that I thought of while still feeling closer to home. In London too I loved my visits to the Natural History Museum and Victoria & Albert Museum in South Kensington, two that I returned to on several occasions on this most recent, if brief, visit to the British capital in October.

The more I’ve traveled, the more museums I’ve visited. In many respects they fill certain roles which I set in my mind from early on depending on their focus. In Upstate New York, if I wanted to visit a natural history museum I would go to the Museum of the Earth in Ithaca or if I wanted to wander around an art museum for an afternoon, I’d go to the Rockwell Museum in Corning or the Everson Museum in Syracuse.

I’ve been fortunate to see so many of these places and experience the life we give them amid all the relics of our past. In more ways than I probably even recognize, these museums have inspired my career, and I hope that I may contribute a verse to their songs one day.


Dalí and the Surreal

Over the weekend I was in Chicago to see a special exhibit at the Art Institute called Salvador Dalí: The Image Disappears. It got me thinking about the appeal of the surreal. Click here to support the Wednesday Blog: https://www.patreon.com/sthosdkane

Over the weekend I was in Chicago to see a special exhibit at the Art Institute called Salvador Dalí: The Image Disappears. It got me thinking about the appeal of the surreal.

I for one really like Dalí’s art, it captures something of the subconscious possibility in the way it bends and transforms nature. Surrealism creates a mirror universe governed by its own laws, inhabited by a cast of characters that are just familiar enough to us to warrant closer inspection and intense curiosity. When developed to its fullest extent with sound and movement, the color and light of the surreal comes to life in a truly radiant and radical fashion. I’m talking of course of Dalí’s collaboration with Walt Disney, which became the short film Destino, a gorgeous film that is available today on Disney+. The Spanish guitar and drums, and singer’s voice pair well with Dalí’s images that find themselves unlocked from the monumental stone edifices they were built into upon their creation, the permanence of place and pose in painting.

The Dalí paintings at the Art Institute reflected the opposite of the great monuments of Destino, and more the impermanence and fragility of life itself. Crafted and devised throughout Dalí’s life, in particular during the troubled years of the Spanish Civil War, these images tell their own stories of paranoia and chaos. They show how Dalí expressed his emotions and innermost thoughts in his art. When world events on his doorstep forced him to contemplate horrors that pulled him from his passions, those horrors showed themselves in his work.

The Persistence of Memory

I’m drawn to Dalí’s most classic examples of surrealism, The Persistence of Memory being the type painting of these. They remind me with their distant hazy horizons of a book of labyrinths that I was given for Christmas one year in the early 2000s that had the same eternal yet present horizon line which stretched out from the central object echoing the idea of infinity yet not quite reaching that point itself. About a decade ago I was lucky enough to get to see another Dalí exhibit, this one in the Hallmark Headquarters at Crown Center here in Kansas City, where several Dalí images commissioned by Hallmark in the 1950s for a new line of greeting cards were on display for employees and their families. I remember Dalí’s interpretation of Santa for a Christmas card was fascinating, though not what Hallmark, the Norman Rockwell of American companies, necessarily wanted.

On Monday, I decided to compliment the Dalí exhibit with a visit to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art here in Kansas City to see Alberto Giacometti: Toward the Ultimate Figure, a collection of sketches, paintings, and sculptures by the Swiss master artist whose work spanned the first six decades of the twentieth century, and was in many ways Dalí’s contemporary. Yet where Dalí sought to interpret the human form through distortion imbued with a great sunny sense of Catalan romance, Giacometti’s works narrowed down their focus to the purest and ultimate human figure, which he crafted throughout his life’s work into sculptures notable for their roughness, slenderness, and height. I for one prefer Dalí’s vision over Giacometti’s, though I respect both artists for what they were trying to create.

The surreal appeals to me because it echoes the disorderly world of my own dreams, the images that dance through my mind when I sleep are best described as surreal. Dalí collaborated with one of my favorite comics of his day, Harpo Marx, to create a film which ultimately was dropped by MGM for being too strange and finally in the last decade adapted into a graphic novel called Giraffes on Horseback Salad. Neither man spoke each other’s language, yet they both knew how to approach the language of the surreal, and so crafted a story that is the definition of weird and silly, that proved to be too strange even for Harpo’s brother Groucho. It’s good for us to have this alternate to our own world to turn to, this dreamlike fantasy realm where things don’t quite add up to how we expect. We humans are too imaginative to really fully be the normal people we make ourselves out to be. We have dreams, all of us, and rarely do they turn out to meet our expectations of what is normal.