The power of art

I was in Indianapolis for the weekend to see the Hillsdale Lady Chargers take on two Indianapolis teams at a Thanksgiving women’s basketball tournament. In between games, we had some time to explore the city. I had two top things I wanted to do: swim in the natatorium (a 50-meter indoor pool) and see the art museum. Unfortunately, the pool was closed for the weekend. But, I got my second wish.

My boyfriend Mike and I explored the Indianapolis Museum of Art. The acronym – IMA – was made into a banner that said: “It’s My Art Museum.” That’s fitting, because that day we made it our museum. It’s art in many ways. Housed in an architecturally stunning building, it has the coolest escalator that I’ve ever seen in an art museum. And, the landscape team worked hard to present an artful winter setting: red-twigged dogwoods softened by cabbage “flowers” and flanked by tall grasses. The symmetry of the outdoor gardens was extraordinary in its simplicity. Walking up to the building was both welcoming and exciting … what other treasures would we find inside?

We enjoyed looking closely at the paintings…making comments about many of the fascinating items they contained. Mike also marveled at the way the light of the painting illuminated faces or cast others in shadow. Our favorites were the Impressionist section, with a great range of American Impressionists, and the Renaissance art. While going from gallery to gallery, I commented that while at the Louvre in Paris with my oldest daughter – who majored in art and design at U-M – she wasn’t that impressed with the sculptures or paintings inside that museum. She said, “I don’t want anyone to dictate what art is to me.” Instead, she became fascinated with a wood railing in one of the galleries – saying that was the best thing in the Louvre. Others, including me, would beg to differ. But it captivated her.

A similar experience happened to Mike and me at IMA. We wandered into the modern art section and neither of us like that style of art. He said, “Let’s just go through to confirm why we don’t like modern art.” I reluctantly agreed. Yes, we saw a room of string, a stack of about 50 TVs, a wall of everyday objects and other oddities. But we also wandered into a gallery that had Lucite displays of unique glass objects. Yet, the room itself made the glass even more intriguing. It resembled a penthouse with a stunning view of the woods beyond, a river, small lake and, off to the left, a stream of cars traveling the freeway. Together, it was truly a moving experience. It even had a leather lounge chair to take it all in. That, for us, was the best thing in the museum. And my daughter’s right, “Don’t let others dictate what’s great art. Find it for yourself.”