365 Days at the Met

 November 23, 2020 I'd walked through gallery 516, the last of the British galleries, several times previously and, to be honest, was not looking forward to this visit. The space, although bisected by a large display cabinet, appeared to be enormous and forbiddingly crammed with furniture and ceramics. The latter include three enormous ceramic birds - a peacock, a stork, and a heron - two of which, as I learned, were designed to hold walking sticks!  These seemed the height of Victorian excess. In fact, today's visit was highly enjoyable.   Probably a variety of factors account for this: the sun finally broke out after a day and a half of rain and gray skies; I'd done a good workout and then an online yoga class and was feeling energized; I allowed myself to take the crosstown bus both ways. But I think that a major reason is that the space is well-lit and - a wonderful surprise -  the large majority of items bear explanatory captions at more or less eye level, making for a

November 20, 2020 I will have to come back to gallery 514 at a later point. Through  a wavy glass window in gallery 512, I can make out that gallery 514 is a period room and that it has a splendid chandelier and large tapestries hanging on deep red walls. But that's about it, and the space - broken record alert - is dimly lit. Gallery.515 is very large room, perhaps 60 feet long and 25 feet wide, with a 20-foot high ceiling.  An empty bin that, under normal circumstances, would contain handouts with information about the room and its contents, is labeled "Lansdowne House," so I Google "Lansdowne House Met Museum"on my cell phone and am rewarded with quite a lot of information.  Begun in 1765 and designed by the architect Robert Adam (I've heard of him!) for Prime Minister John Stuart (for whom J.S. Mill was named?), the building occupied a corner of Berkeley Square.  Stuart sold the unfinished house to  the earl of Shelburne, later marquess of Lans

 November 14, 2020 This was probably my second least satisfying visit to the Met. (The least satisfying was the Monday morning I arrived only to find that the museum was closed in preparation for the Fashion Institute gala.) For one thing, I decided I'd try out my Thierry Rabotin shoes, which are ridiculously expensive, good-looking,  and comfortable enough around the house or for walking short distances.  That turned out to be a mistake: the footbeds have very little padding, and the wavy wedge soles left me feeling off-balance. After walking about 20 minutes in them, I decided to hop the bus rather than walk the extra 15 minutes across Central Park.  When I reached the museum, I learned that galleries 513 and 514 are both closed due to Covid restrictions. On the surface, I understand this: Gallery 513 is small and narrow, with only a few display cases, and access to gallery 514 is through Gallery 513. That said, these galleries are very sparsely attended anyway - I've rarely

 October 9, 2020 What I take to be gallery 512 (I didn't see gallery numbers) is a very large space containing literally  hundreds of 18th century decorative objects.  Tall cabinets filled with porcelains and silver draw the eye, but there are also numerous items of furniture (chairs, settees, and cabinets),  fireplace mantels,  and portrait busts on pedestals.  I take note, too, of oil portraits of young women by Romney and Reynolds. I know that Reynolds is known for prettifying the images of his sitters,  but in this case, it appears that his skills could go only so far.  Placards on the wall describe the multiplicity of styles in evidence: Neoclassicism, chinoiserie, the Rococo (imported from France), and Gothic revival. Once again, the room goes for overall impressions rather than appreciation of individual objects, at least in  these Covid times,  since descriptions of the latter appear on hand-held cards which have been removed for our safety.  As elsewhere, stooping