The Art Institute

I am beginning to think that I can't say that I don't get into the city very often. Once again, I was downtown this weekend. This time I went to the Art Institute of Chicago. In addition to walking through the galleries to view great masterpieces, I finally can say that I saw another outdoor piece of art, Cloud Gate, also known as the Bean. I wasn't planning on seeing it, but since I was right there, we stopped. I only wish that I had my camera. Still, the pictures wouldn't have been that great because it was overcast and Cloud Gate would only have been refleting the dull gray sky endemic to Chicago winters.

I had forgotten how uplifting looking at a great piece of art can be. It is such a joy to be able to see the colors, techniques, and emotions that are put into a painting or sculpture. Even the pieces that are disturbing can have a powerful impact on one's pysche.

The Art Institute proudly displays one of my favorite paintings, Paris Street; Rainy Day by Gustave Caillebotte quite prominently. I can't say why I like this painting so much. Having read more about the artist I think that I relate to him on some level. He didn't really take the stage during the Impressionist scene. While an artist in his own right, he used his financial resources to provide backing for many well known artists such as Degas, Monet, Pissarro, Renoir, and Sisley.

While I enjoy Impressionist paintings (for which the Art Institute is famous) I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the more modern and abstract paintings. I found the sculptures of Constatin Brancusi to be quite simple and elegant as well as a painting by Robert Delaunay Champs de Mars: The Red Tower.

My son tended to prefer sculptures to paintings, although he was particular interested in a disturbing painting of Dorian Gray by. My daughter was enthralled with the notion that she was seing famous paintings and those by famous artists in person. She particularly liked the Picassos and was entranced by Georges Seurat's A Sunday on La Grande Jatte.

One of the best parts of the whole trip is when I was approached by another patron, who asked me if the nearby children observing some painting were mine. I was nervous for a moment, wondering if my son and daughter had offended someone with their youthful exuberance. Instead, the woman told me that she was impressed by their attention to the paintings and thought it was wonderful that I was exposing them to art at the young ages of seven and nine.