Sterility

Not that kind.

The hospital kind. The professional kind. Really what I'm referring to is the museum kind.

I think I am a pretty intent art appreciator. However, something about museums has never totally clicked 100% for me.

My earliest memory is of the MET. My mom took me relatively often when we were in the city, and I always bee lined to the gift shop at a dead run whenever possible. It was the most magnificent place I had ever been. Games, toys, books, colors, puzzles, science experiements.

My favorite was the lanyard set for making keychains.

The museum itself never did it for me.

I would prefer to see one piece by itself than thousands of pieces competing for my attention, eventually overwhelming me to the point where my awareness viewed all of the pieces as a continuous blur.

I have since returned and often enjoy myself if I focus on one exhibit. The moment we start wandering, it's all over and I just want a hot dog and the hard stone steps of the entrance.

When I was 20, I visited the Brooklyn Museum to see both an Annie Leibovitz exhibit and a Ron Mueck exhibit. I was blown away and thought my aversion to museums had finally been cured.

Then I visited the MOCA in Los Angeles. Again, there was a turn off that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The exhibit I visited was amazing and featured Robert Frank's portfolio of The Americans. But as I began weaving away from the photography, I began to get angry. Modern art often makes me angry (not always, but usually).

Well, it was the modern art and not the museum, I thought.

Then again, I visited a small art museum. Something was not clicking.

Then it came to me: the sterility.

I felt like I was walking on eggshells. The guards were constanly watching me. I couldn't get too close to a piece to see the detail. Some of the prints were too small for the huge, white walls that held them. I was shushed.

But how many of these artists intended for their pieces to be viewed as a static?

As a generality, many artists are rife with eccentricities and I wouldn't say "reserved" is a quality that is required of the artist. Sure, there is the "brooding" artist. But many must be kind of out there. And even if they aren't, they are still people and, like the rest of us, probably don't like being shushed and pushed and watched and advised.

Looking through an art book, in privacy and without intrustion, offers much more thrill to me.

Currently, I am looking through The Photo Book, Phaidon's megalithic bible of images.

Within seconds, I am captivated by James Abbe's informal portrait of Bessie Love. Taken during a break from a photo shoot, the nude actress warms herself by the fire. The beauty, the story, the energy is overwhelming.

Had I seen this in a museum, with a guard hovering over my shoulder, would I have felt the same?