Thyssen
I wonder what people are thinking as they walk through museums. “I bet half of them aren’t even really looking,” says E. I like hearing moms explain paintings to little kids, and I’m pretty certain they only bring them along for this purpose. It’s a slowing down, an appreciation you find because they can’t.
People use museums as an excuse to hold hands or whisper in ears. Or maybe for the air-conditioning. Sometimes, it’s just something to do because that’s what the guidebook says. If a flashless photo is allowed, they scoot around snapping shots but never really looking, as E said. Some are real art lovers, but even so your brain starts to hurt after a while. I like to spend time in front of paintings that catch my eye from across the room. Here, a portrait of George Washington’s chef and a Rauschenberg end up being my favorites of the day. “It’s weird when you think about it,” E says. “A building sitting right there with all that art and culture.”
I like watching people watching. The little boys seated in the chairs with their arms folded make me smile. The guards feel ghostly and disconnected.
The gift shop is the fun part for most (a reward for making it through?). They can finally talk again, finally buy again, are that much closer to the bathroom and the dining area. I wonder why they buy posters at museums since the invention of the internet, and I wonder if those ever really get looked at either.
