365 Days at the Met

September 26, 2018 Gallery 226 has only two displays. One is a large room constructed in 1985 by Japanese craftsmen and modeled on the main room of the guest residence  of a temple outside Kyoto. It uses materials and techniques typical of the Momoyama period (1573-1615) and is notable for its high ceilings and the harmony of the warm tan and brown tones of its wooden beams, tatami mats, and sliding screens. Along one of the room's walsl is a long platform above which hangs a scroll with three large. bold characters that mean "profound sincerity," a state of mind considered important for achieving enlightenment. The room has no furniture. I'm not clear about the purpose to which such a room would have been put. It is easy, however, to imagine a group of priests sitting on the floor in silent meditation while facing  the platform and the scroll. The second display, shown in the photo, is of another pair of six-panel screens that were painted in the early 17th

September 24, 2018 This gallery (225) has a small number of painted screens and scolls. A caption on the wall describes two major traditions of Japanese painting from about the 1600s forward:  "Japanese" and "Chinese." From the little I can understand, it seems that "Japanese" paintings are those that incorporate traditional landscape themes, scenes from Japanese literature, and particular styles of representation (e.g., Rimpa). "Chinese" painting is marked by monochromatic palettes and virtuosic brushwork. All this said, I am incapable of distinguishing one from the other, at least based on the works on exhibit in this gallery. The philistine idea that "I don't know anything about art, but I know what I like" comes to me in this room. (Actually, I'm a little surprised that it hasn't occurred to me sooner.) What I like is a set of two companion six-panel folding screens painted in the early 1820s by Sakai Hotsu, th

September 21, 2018 This small gallery (224) is devoted to Rinpa, a representational style that arose in the 17th century. According to the caption, it emphasized "bold, exaggerated, or purely graphic renderings of natural motifs" and formalized depictions of poets, scholars, and fictional characters. The caption goes on to say that Rinpa art tended toward simplification, sometimes achieved through exaggeration. I have no idea what "purely graphic renderings of natural motifs" means. But today's object, a scroll painting in ink and color on silk by Suzuki Kitsu (1796-1858) measuring  perhaps 26 inches across and 18 inches high, certainly exemplifies simplification. The painting's  title, "Crane and Pine Tree with Rising Sun," perfectly describes the painting, which contains only these three elements. The composition is balanced along a diagonal that runs from the lower left to the upper right corner. Below the diagonal are the gnarled bran

September 20, 2018 Gallery 224 holds Buddhist scrolls and sculptures dating  from the late 12th or 13th century forward.  Today's object is a hanging scroll, pehaps 30 inches long, painted in ink, color, and gold by Sakai Hotsu in 1823. It depicts the bodhissatva Kannon in an outdoor setting. What is striking to me is the mix of calm and turbulence in the image.  Kannon is sitting cross-legged in the lotus position. His  hands are folded in his lap; his eyes are open but lowered. He appears to be in a meditative state.    He is dressed in white robes that stand out against the greige  silk background. His skin appears to be nearly the same color as that background, although his lips are pink and his cheeks also have a pinkish tinge.  He wears a headdress embellished with gold decorations, along with a gold necklace.  The limited palette of colors in which the figure is painted contributes to the sense of tranquillity.  On the other hand, he is framed against a sha

September 17, 2018 With gallery 223, I enter the Japanese collection and immediately realize how extraordinarily little I know about Japanese history and culture, so much so that when I see a recognizably Buddhist sculpture and other Buddhist images, they  seem like old friends. In particular, I know almost nothing about Shintoism -- whose importance in Japanese art seems beyond dispute,  even from the few objects in this introductory gallery, although it  seems to be guided by a belief in animism, with gods present in such natural phenomena as waterfalls and mountains. I'm intrigued by two scroll paintings from the 18 and 19th centuries that depict a legendary third-century woman warrior empress named Jingu. In both images she appears in white robes that don't look particularly womanly; she holds a large bow and has a quiver of arrows  slung over her back. Given the submissiveness we associate with women's roles in ancient (and even modern) Japan, it is interest

I wasn't sure what to expect when I started my explorations in the Chinese galleries. But I'm struck by a number of things. First is the continuity of some of the traditions and the modes of representation, a continuity that  almost rivals that of Egyptian art. The dragon motif seems present from the Shang dynasty forward, for example. Similarly, later landscape painters respected and built on the work of earlier artists and incorporated long-standing elements of landscapes (rivers, mountains, trees) into their compositions.  I am not enough of a connoisseur, unfortunately, to recognize easily the differences as well as the similarities among the landscape scrolls unless these differences are very obvious. Second, and related, is the importance of the landscape itself.  Egyptian artists sometimes showed animals and plants, but I recall few expansive landscape scenes, and the same is true of Roman artists, except for the murals that adorned villas. But nature plays a critica

September 12, 2018 Gallery 222 contains works that reprise the theme of figural representation, this time presenting images of Buddhist and Daoist immortals. The gallery also houses a collection of jade objects given to the museum.   One piece I notice is an 18th or 19th century rock  crystal statuette of a bearded "drunken immortal," who lies on his side asleep. I realize that I may be wrong in assuming that opprobrium was attached to drunkenness. Maybe it was perceived as a means of achieving a visionary, transcendant state? Most of the jade leaves me cold, I confess, although I recognize the craft and skill involved in carving such a hard substance. But I can't help but admire today's object, a jade plaque about 10 inches long and perhaps 8 inches high. Dating from the  18th century and carved in deep relief, it shows Laozi, the founder of Daoism, riding a beast (a water buffalo?) along a narrow ridge trail in the mountains. The trail appears to be s

September 11, 2018 Gallery 221 displays more objects (plates, brush holders, screens, etc.) decorated with figural representations. The objects largely depict adults, although one I particularly like is a small round lacquer box showing a child in an  oval tub being washed by a woman, presumably his mother. There are several painted porcelain dishes depicting women doing typical "womanly" things, like cooking and smelling flowers.  Many of the objects show (and I assume were made for) gentleman scholars. These individuals are usually portrayed writing, painting, strolling in gardens, sitting in pavillions drinking tea and conversing, or otherwise doing the highly respectable things scholars are supposed to do. But today's object, an 18th century porcelain plate perhaps 8 inches in diameter, is captioned "plate with a drunken scholar and an attendant." I am not sure which is which. Is the scholar the bald, almost supine figure in the background, wearing

September 6, 2018 Gallery 220 is the first of three galleries in a special exhibition devoted to figural representation in the decorative arts. This gallery centers on depictions of children - almost always boys - reprising the theme of the importance of progeny.  Often boys are shown at play, enjoying the same kinds of diversions - flying kites, riding hobbyhorses, in one case sliding down a big slide - as today's childen. I'm charmed by a small porcelain pillow base in the form of a young boy. He's lying on his side, his folded left arm cradling his head. His eyes are closed; he looks very comfortable (though it's hard to me to imagine that a pillow on a porcelain base would be all that comfortable). This is one of the older pieces I've seen, from the 11th or 12th century (the Northern Song dynasty). But what really impresses me is a 19th century silk tapestry, perhaps 12 fe et long and 4 1/2 feet wide. There's a lot going on in the tapestry, but th

September 4, 2018 Gallery 219 is devoted to Chinese decorative arts and contains dozens of small, exquisite objects of porcelain, enamel, jade, glass, ivory, cinnabar, bamboo, amethyst, and perhaps some other substances as well, that date from the Ming and Qing dynasties. There are helpful touchscreens that provide information about many of the objects without cluttering up the display cases.  This strikes me as a really good use of technology.   As I walk in, my eye is immediately drawn to a small gourd-shaped bottle, about 3 inches high (the photograph is actually true to scale), which I take to be a perfume bottle but turns out to be a snuff bottle. And while I have come to associate the delicate cobalt blue of the vegetal forms with painting on white porcelain, in fact, the bottle is made of enamel, with a lapis lazuli stopper. It dates from the Qianlong period (1736-95) of the Qing dynasty.  As I make my way into the gallery, I note an ivory statuette of a female bodhi

August 31, 2018 I was very tired and after doing an errand on the East Side, considered skipping the museum and taking the bus back home. I'm so glad I didn't! Gallery 218, in back of the Ming scholar's garden, is truly one I have never seen before. Perhaps 50 feet long and 20 feet wide, it is meant to evoke the salon of what I assume was a grand home during the Ming dynasty. As such, it houses several pieces of Ming furniture from the Met's collection, including a long and wide settee, two grand wardrobes, two stools, and several tables. Three large windows frame garden scenes of rough limestone rocks and greenery. On a long table under the central window is a dark blue porcelain vase that holds several flowering stems, artfully arranged. In all, the feeling is one of spareness: There are not many objects, but each is a thing of grace, and its place has been carefully thought out.  This is a space created by the museum. of course. But I wonder who would have