The Met: Part 1

Over the past few days parts of the City have flooded due to nearly seven inches of rain. Keeping my promise to explore one new place each week, I decided to go to The Met, formally known as The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Of course I knew this would likely be the day activity of half the City, but decided to take my chances. I couldn't foresee the mass chaos and magic that lay ahead.

Now, The Met's architecture is a museum in itself, consisting of three floors with more than 100 different rooms on each floor. Many of the rooms range in size dependent upon the particular exhibit, and finding them must be similar to a rat in a science experiment. I've never been one for art, or understanding the philosophic viewpoints of how certain brush strokes or colors make tangible a specific emotion, but have always loved my grandfather's paintings. In his retirement he took on his childhood hobby, and shares his love for art by giving his family and friends pieces of the simple things from his life. Whether it's a bench in a garden or an Italian loaf of bread, he makes the simple simply beautiful.

Deep in the heart of The Met I felt this too, not by the paintings or photographs or charcoal pieces, but through the "simple" things that used to be part of everyday life to the Ancient Greeks, Ethiopians, Colombians or Native Americans.  Throughout the day I explored these exhibits admiring the detail and ritual behind each piece, that today, we often find so irreplaceable.











My final semester of Graduate school I took a course about Classical Rhetoric (yes, I probably should have signed up for Modern offered the previous year), and often struggled understanding the concepts my professor proposed in class discussions. But when I saw first hand what he was trying to say, I felt that same sense of awe I knew he had for the subject. Each piece in the Ancient Greek exhibit, whether it was a pair of earrings, perfume vases, armor, pottery, combs or even tweezers, they each had a story. Intricately carved into every item were symbols of animals, Greek gods and goddesses and historic battles.


One set of gold earrings featured a scene of Prince Ganymede in the grasp of Zeus, personified as an eagle, the pair hanging above honeysuckle. Greek mythology claims that the Prince was the most beautiful human creature and was an honored soldier from Troy. Zeus transformed into an eagle and swooped up the Prince and took him back to the heavens to be the torch bearer for Olympus.

There were cases filled with hundreds of pendents, or for all purposes, medals. Each were decorated with similar mythologies, such as one dating back to 1450 B.C. with the image of the phoenix. As mythology goes, the phoenix is burned to ashes every lifecycle (500-1000 years), resulting in a new phoenix hatching, symbolizing rebirth. Many Catholics today even wear these medals, depicting saints or images of Jesus engraved into each, acting as a constant reminder of spirituality and beauty in simplicity. Whatever the piece in the exhibit, it meant something to its owner, and it wasn't found on a canvas, but in everyday items.