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Volunteer Spotlight: Christine Kline

April 23–29, 2017 is National Volunteer Week and we want to recognize the amazing 469 volunteers who generously give their time to SAM. Volunteers assist us in a variety of roles (Coat Check, Docents, Information Desk, and Park Stewards, just to name a few), and you probably encounter at least one volunteer each time you visit SAM. Volunteers make it possible for us to do all that we do!

This week we kick off a new feature on SAM Blog: a monthly volunteer spotlight. Volunteer Christine Kline, our current Docent Chair, agreed to be the first volunteer spotlighted!

SAM: How long have you been a volunteer at SAM? 

Christine: I joined the student tour docent training class in 2010.

Why do you like volunteering at SAM?

I have always loved SAM—I’ve enjoyed being a member for many years. In addition to the remarkable array of art at the three sites, the people who volunteer are just wonderful. Since I entered the docent training, I have found volunteers and staff to be warm, caring, and passionate about art and learning—could there be a better combination?

What is your favorite piece of art at SAM?

I think one that I hold dearest is the beautiful little (about 5x9”) ivory belt mask, Belt Mask of Iyoba Idia from the Nigerian Benin Kingdom, carved in the early 16th century. The delicacy of the carving, with the regal resolve in Queen Idia’s face is so compelling. I could gaze at it forever.

What do you do as Docent Chair of SAM Volunteer Association (SAMVA)? 

A little bit of everything. As part of chairing the Docent Executive Committee (DEC) meetings, I meet and talk with the DEC chairs who work in the areas of docent training, docent program development, special events in the arts, and the care and maintenance of central areas like membership, docent days, evaluations, budget, and records. I meet regularly with education staff members to assist in furthering the work of the docent body. One of the features of being Docent Chair is attending the SAMVA meetings and I have found them to be fascinating and informative.  The meetings give me perspective on all the ways volunteers support SAM—I am really learning!

What do you do for fun?

I love going to museums and galleries, attending interesting lectures at these sites, and just engaging with the art. I also love going to the ballet, chamber music concerts, and jazz concerts. I enjoy cooking and dining out. I recently moved to Seattle from Tacoma and, oh, do I love experiencing the range of eateries in Seattle!

What’s your most memorable moment as a volunteer?

There are so many memorable moments. In working with student groups, the surprise of their observations is a constant delight. One recurring moment that comes to mind, from older students as well as younger, is the query, tentatively but touchingly offered: “Is that painting the real thing? Did she or he [Jacob Lawrence, for example] really paint this with his own hands?” That moment of realization never ceases to move me.

–Jenny Woods, Manager of Volunteer Programs

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For the Love of Art: Mariana Tomas

MARIANA TOMAS
35–44
Change management consultant
Dual member since 2011

Why do you love art?

Art makes us ask questions. It makes us stand on our tippy-toes peeking around the painted street corner. It sparks our curiosity. It inspires us, charges our batteries, and makes our souls richer.

What are your hobbies or passions?

In my free time, I explore caves. When you’re in that cave, there is nothing else. The world outside does not exist, because the possibility that you will never see daylight again is always present. In a way, caving is like space travel, the last frontier, the ultimate mission into unknown. The promise that it holds is breathtaking beauty, exploration, adventure, and, of course, discovery of something we didn’t know about ourselves. You’re testing your own limits, you’re watching your every move, and you’re trying to absorb as much as you can from your surroundings. To me, this is very primal.

Do you see any link between your hobbies of cave exploring and art?

I think it’s curiosity, because what I wrote about art is actually what I used to do when I was a little kid. My aunt had a painting of a street corner that veered off and you couldn’t see where it was leading so I thought if I got myself in the right position, somehow I would see the other side of the street. It’s the same thing about caves—it’s searching for the next thing around the corner and just being curious. The curiosity that we have as the human race, I guess.

You’re a change management consultant. What does that mean?

Change management is an emerging field that’s growing here in the Pacific Northwest. We have an international organization where we help organizations to transition. It could be anything from companies moving or implementing new software or having a merger with another company. We help with preparing people for the new world. I’ve been doing this for 7 years.

What’s your favorite SAM location? Do you have a special spot to visit?

SAM’s Asian Art Museum. The museum has such historical value and it’s just so beautiful. The setting in Volunteer Park—and all of it—is just great. I love to visit Monk At The Moment Of Enlightenment. I found looking at the other Asian art that’s exhibited there from that period that you don’t see a whole lot of expression on the face (in general) and he has this expression of bliss that I think is so hard to capture—even for something that is that old and made in wood. That moment of enlightenment that we all hope—well, maybe not all but some of us hope—to maybe live someday. I think it’s a really uplifting piece of art and pretty unique to what I’ve seen. I don’t claim to be an Asian art connoisseur so I just enjoy it.

Yes, we like the things we like. You’ve been a member since 2011?

Yes. I really didn’t realize how easy it is to be a member. I got a gift membership that year and I was thrilled. I just love coming to the museum and it definitely pays in multiple ways. Not just financially. Here you get that sense that art is accessible and that’s really the appeal to me: being a part of it, being able to support it in some way.

If you, like Mariana, love the Asian Art Museum, get enlightened on what’s happening as we begin our renovation and expansion of the historic home of SAM. Members make our world go round and you can help ensure the future of the Asian Art Museum by becoming a member today or making a donation to the renovation of the iconic Art Deco building.

visitsam.org/inspire

Photos: Natali Wiseman
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My Favorite Things: Barbara Earl Thomas on Vuillard’s Dining Room

Fresh for your viewing pleasure, the newest video of our My Favorite Things YouTube series featuring Seattle-based artist, Barbara Earl Thomas.

Thomas’ storytelling and humor move seamlessly across media as she works in both painting and writing. Earlier this year Thomas won the Stranger Genius Award in visual art and later this year she’ll be honored with a Governor’s Arts and Heritage Award. With a social commitment to her community that is broad and inclusive, she values good citizenship and social responsibility. Numbered among the SAM collection is Echo Tides, a 1991 painting by Thomas depicting the tension between transition and stability.

In her My Favorite Things interview, Barbara Earl Thomas unpacks her interest in Edouard Vuillard’s Dining Room, Rue de Naples, ParisDining Room portrays the home of Vuillard’s longtime family friends. Thomas is drawn to the sensuous and gentle responses to color, light, and form in the painting, noting, “My house looks like this, my living room looks like this. But when I paint, I don’t paint like this.” Responding strongly to the use of Vuillard’s established painterly technique, Barbara Earl Thomas explains, “You get an indication to everything, but nothing is in clear view.”

Watch the interview, and head to our My Favorite Things playlist on YouTube to watch more of our artist interviews.

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Norbert Herber on “Mobile Section”

“Everyone has a part to play in this tradition, whether you work with indigo or not. Anyone who wears blue jeans has a part to play in this tradition.” – Norbert Herber

What sound does a seed make? How about compost? Experience how digital images and color can translate to timber in the hands of Norbert Herber.

As you enter Mood Indigo: Textiles From Around the World you encounter a contemporary compliment to the historic scope of the exhibition exploring this vibrant dye. A collaboration between textile artist Rowland Ricketts and sound artist Norbert Herber, “Mobile Section” is a responsive and immersive installation combining a large-scale, hanging textile and field recordings of Ricketts’ indigo dyeing process synthesized using data from various conditions that produced the dye and color gradations of the cloth in the installation. Sensors in the gallery register people as they move around the installation and accelerate or decelerate the sound mix so that the audio element on “Mobile Section” will never sound the same twice.

See this work before it’s too late—it will be on view through October 9 in the exhibition Mood Indigo: Textiles From Around the World at the Asian Art Museum in Volunteer Park.

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‘Tis The Season To Be Jolly…

With a permanent collection that spans the globe, featured exhibitions Pop Departures and City Dweller’s: Contemporary Art from India, special Seattle holiday events such as SAM Lights at the Olympic Sculpture Park, and extended hours, a trip to the museum is a great way to spend the holidays.

Bring your family, friends, or out-of-town guests and have fun wandering around the galleries and interacting with fascinating pieces. Stop by SAM Shop or SAM Books for Pop art mementos, and turn your selfies into a work of art by stepping inside our Pop photo booth, selecting a Pop art filter, and snapping a shot!

SPECIAL EXTENDED HOURS

  • 10 am-­5 pm Tuesday, December 23
  • 10 am-­5 pm Tuesday, December 30
  • 10 am­-5 pm Tuesday, January 6 (Pop Departures final week)

The museum is open on December 24 (closing early at 3 pm) and New Year’s Day (10 am to 9 pm which is First Thursday).

HOLIDAY CLOSURES

  • Christmas Day

Please call 206.654.3100 for more information about SAM exhibitions and programs, or visit the our website for up-to-date scheduling and hours.

–Bianca Sewake, Seattle Art Museum Communications Intern

Image: Some lovely SAM visitors in our Pop Departures Photo Booth!

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A Portal to the Past

Have you ever looked at an art work at SAM and thought, “I bet there’s a great story behind that?” I think this all the time. Today, a friend of mine tells us a fantastic story that she imagines lies behind a needlepoint image. Her story, a portal to the past, is about a work that looks like a painting but was made by a young girl from tiny, tiny stitches in thread. This story is written by Lorelei Timmons-Herrin, a fifth-grader at Whittier Elementary school (my friend, and daughter of SAM head librarian Traci Timmons). 

Do you have any stories to tell about the art at SAM, or the art in your home? If so, please share it with us in the comments!

Sarah Berman, Curatorial Associate for Collections

Needlework mourning picture, ca. 1805-07, Eliza Gravenstine (American, Philadelphia, 1792-1821), embroidered and painted; watercolor paint on silk, approx. 24 x 28 in., Gift of Ruth J. Nutt, 2014.24.44

 

NEEDLEWORK MOURNING PICTURE

I made this picture to remind people of what cholera did to us living in the 1800s.

It was a cold sad day as I trudged through the mud to my brother’s grave. He had died of cholera two years ago. I was only eight years old then. I miss him a lot. I shall tell you all my story.

“I want John to get better mother” I whined.

“I know you do, but we haven’t found a cure yet” my mother said. I could see she was getting inpatient. My mother was a strong woman, she had raised all three of us all alone. My brother, John loved reading and writing, he was a caring young man. My sister, Samantha loved reading like John. She also likes playing with our kittens. And there’s me, I love doing needlework.

You can see that my mother (in the middle) is decorating the grave. My sister (on the right) is holding an olive branch, a sign of good luck. I am (on the left) mourning for my dead brother. It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I cried many times in the making of this picture.

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With Unlimited Power and Unlimited Funding, I Would…

This summer, intern Sholeh Hajmiragha has been working with me on two projects. Her first project was to sift through years of accumulated notes on SAM’s maiolica collection, and update our records according to the best and most recent information. Her second project was different. She tells you more, below.

-Sarah Berman, Curatorial Associate for Collections

 

In the last three weeks of my curatorial internship at the Seattle Art Museum, I was given a project – to imagine that I had the power and the unlimited funding to acquire any and all art from contemporary artists in the Middle East.  This exercise was consuming and exciting, and it allowed me to gain a much greater insight into the acquisition process and research required in acquiring art.  On this last day of my internship, and for my farewell blogpost, I’ve decided to share one of my favorite artists that I researched during this exercise – ninety-eight year old Saloua Raouda Choucair.

Saloua Raouda Choucair represents an oversight in the western conception of contemporary art history.  Born in Beirut in 1916, Choucair is heralded as a pioneer of abstract art in the Arab world, though until recently Choucair was largely unknown outside of Lebanon.  Now in her ninety-eighth year, Choucair’s most recent exhibition at Tate Modern in 2013 was the first time her work has been shown publicly on a global scale.  In this regard, Choucair’s work can be considered new, with herself an unknown artist.  Yet, what makes her work significant is the reality that Choucair has been working as a female artist in the Beirut art scene from the 1940s, studying in the studio of Fernand Léger in Paris, and producing abstract art alongside the historical western modernist art movement.  Maymanah Farah writes in her essay “Saloua Raouda Choucair: Reinventing Abstraction”, “One of the many myths of the Western canon is that European modern artists invented abstraction…At the moment, there is a multidisciplinary campaign to correct the shortcomings of this history of Modernism by looking past the borders of Euro-American art centers.   It is within the experiments of artists who are noticeably absent from the Western view of art history, despite having been in pursuit of modern aesthetics, that examples of pre-modern abstraction are beginning to be reevaluated.”[1]  Choucair’s work is a perfect example of this as her abstract, modern forms and figures reflect both modernism aesthetics as well as historical Islamic art forms.

Choucair’s art encompasses the intersections of time, space, and place.  Though existing in the artistic school of western modernism, Choucair’s abstraction is distinct and notable.  As Samir Sayigh writes, “this abstraction, despite its proximity to that characterized by modern art in the great artistic capitals of the world, and despite its singularity in Lebanon and the Arab nation, remained an abstraction converging with the contemporary characteristics which characterize Eastern art, and more specifically Arab Islamic art, much more than with Western abstraction as perceived by Kandisnsky, presented by Mondrian, and realized in the Bauhaus Collection.”[2]  In addition to this dialogue of east and west lies another relationship of the object and space.  Not only does Choucair manipulate her paintings to reflect depth and form, but her three-dimensional sculptures present not only an abstraction of architecture and space and the manipulation of shape and form, but also bridge the divide between language and text and art and space.  Choucairs complex, interlocking sculptures are a clear example of this.  Choucair creates sculptural poetry that is constructed through various building blocks and carefully molded shapes that fit together and connect, creating a larger holistic form.  As Choucair has stated, “The way I organized my sculptural poems, for example, was inspired by Arabic poetry.  I wanted rhythm like the poetic meter, to be at once more independent and interlinked, and to have lines like meanings, but plastic meanings.”[3]  In this manner, Choucair translates the very deeply rooted Arabic cultural tradition of poetry into a modern and abstract art form that physically embodies a simultaneous interlocked dependence with a detached and separable independence.

Besides her sculptural work, her paintings reflect dualities as well.  In her painting Paris-Beirut, Choucair depicts an Islamic star, Cleopatra’s Needle, and the Arc de Triomphe in their most basic forms and shapes, both juxtaposed geographically and culturally, yet balanced compositionally, reflecting both an exchange between the east and west, while also hinting toward Choucair’s own decision to return to Beirut, rather than stay in Paris.  In her piece Les  Peintres Célèbres, Choucair presents a scene reminiscent of Fernand Léger’s Le Grand Déjeuner, while transforming it to reflect a new representation of women, presenting a contemporary artistic exchange between Choucair in Beirut and Léger in Paris.  Adrian Searle of The Guardian compares this painting to her former instructor Fernand Léger’s Le Grand Dé jeuner, writing, “The differences are telling, not least because the women don’t seem bothered by our gaze.  Instead, they look at art books, one of which has the title Les Peintres Célèbres (The Famous Painters), which also gives the title of these small studies.  Where Léger’s bodies are polished and overblown, these are wonkier, offhand and much more human.  Choucair’s little paintings depict women among women, oblivious to whoever stares at them.”  Finally, her painting Two=one, which Tate Modern chose to include in its exhibition, contextualizes Choucair within the time and place of Lebanon in the late twentieth century.  Riddled with glass shards, chipping paint, and a large gaping hole in its center, this painting was damaged by a bomb blast during the Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990).  Though no longer in the state it was intended, this piece highlights the reality of Choucair’s life in Beirut.  As Kevin Jones of ArtAsiaPacific writes, “Already in her 60s, with decades of study and practice behind her, when conflict broke out in Lebanon, Choucair simply had no artistic language to admit the war into her practice: her work was entirely rational, scientific, engineered almost to the exclusion of the human and the social.  The incursion of the war literally into the flesh of her practice with Two=one illustrates the potentially destructive force of forgetting: occluded memory, as much as the war itself, was Choucair’s nemesis.”[4]

For me, reading about and researching Choucair and her art was both inspiring and incredibly humbling.  The vast amount of work that she produced over her extensive life, with little to no recognition beyond her local art scene, is really profound.  This exercise in acquisition research highlighted for me the power and significance of displaying and curating art.   The power of her work lies not only in the art itself, but in the fact that it is now able to be seen and appreciated, showing not only her artistic achievements, but also her own life history.

 

-Sholeh Hajmiragha, Curatorial Intern, 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[1] Maymanah Farahat, “Saloua Raouda Choucair: Reinventing Abstraction”, Saloua Raouda Choucair, ed. Jessica Morgan (London: Tate Publishing, 2013), http://www.jadaliyya.com/pages/index/14828/saloua-raouda-choucair_reinventing-abstraction-.

[2] Samir Sayigh, trans. Anna Swank, “Saloua Raouda Choucair: Distinctiveness of Style and Individuality of Vision”, ArteEast (2008), <http://www.arteeast.org/2012/03/04/saloua-raouda-choucair-distinctiveness-of-style-and-individuality-of-vision/>.

[3] Quoted in Mulhaq al-Nahar, 23 September 1995, p. 10, as recorded in Tate Modern summary of Poem (1963-5): <http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/choucair-poem-t13278/text-summary>.

[4] Kevin Jones, “Memory, Corrected: Saloua Raouda Choucair”, ArtAsiaPacific, Issue 88, May/June 2014, <http://artasiapacific.com/Magazine/88/MemoryCorrected>.

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Finding Miró: Paris

Join special projects intern Gabriela Ayala as she travels in Miró’s footsteps through Paris. Then, experience Miro at the Seattle Art Museum’s current special exhibition Miró: The Experience of Seeing on view through May 26, 2014.

Paris, France

It is fifteen minutes until landing in Paris, and the clouds mean serious business. The fog surrounding the Paris airport is hiding any possible knowledge of when the airplane might touch the ground. Before expected, the plane touches the surface of France and the compact fog is not allowing me to see any of the wonder it is hiding. A forty-five minute drive leads me to the center of Paris where no weather can stop the activity of cars moving and people leisurely drinking coffee, shopping, and gawking at the beauty that is Paris. All the architecture you see is ornate and dazzling. There are buildings of all different shapes, colors, and sizes with decorative balconies made of elegant swirls of iron. I try to make note of how old the structures around me are to get an idea of what Miró was surrounded by when he lived here. Miró arrived in Paris for the first time at age twenty-seven where he met Pablo Picasso and would later live and work in a studio neighboring poet André Masson. Paris was a hot spot for artists and poets and Miró was a part of that scene to an extent. He always tried to keep himself a little separated from the groups that formed because he never wanted to loose his individuality and independence. This last part of my inquiry into Miró is initially going to be different than everything else I have seen. Up to this point, I have visited foundations focused solely on Miró, making it a bit easier to gain visual and written knowledge. Now for Paris, I have done a precursory investigation into where Miró lived, worked, and the streets he may have strolled upon.

Saturday, 8:00am

I strap on my trusty, now worn, leather boots and am off to face the rain and find Miró in Paris. I plan my journey on the map so I can make a nice circle around the city and eventually find myself back at home base, the Opera House. First stop is rue La Boëtie, where Galerie La Licorne used to exist. This gallery is where Miró had his first solo exhibition. I do not have an exact number for this absent location so I stroll down the street, looking for a plaque that could clue me into where this gallery could have been. What I end up finding is a plaque that showed me a different gallery that lived on this same block. This gallery was owned by French art dealer Paul Rosenberg in 1910-1940. He exhibited modern painters like Picasso, Braque, Matisse and Lêger. Miró met Rosenberg through Picasso but I am unsure if he ever showed at this particular gallery. I continue on to the UNESCO building that has two of Miró’s ceramic murals inside. I arrive to a building encircled by a shorter stonewall that is supporting a metal fence. Sadly, I run into a security guard who very urgently asks me to leave and informs me that the UNESCO building cannot be visited today. This means I cannot get a photo of Miró’s mural but I have to accept my defeat and move on to the next checkpoint. Next on the list is 45 rue Blomet.

Square Blomet, a public park where Miró's studio at 45 rue Blomet once stood. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

Square Blomet, a public park where Miró’s studio at 45 rue Blomet once stood. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

This is the location I am most excited about. 45 rue Blomet marks the spot that was Miró’s first studio in Paris and where he made now famous works and was surrounded by many famous artists and poets. It was a location where many surrealist artists and writers would meet up. rue Blomet curves off of the busier main street, eventually becoming parallel as the numbers on the buildings go up. I am counting to myself 32, 35, 40, 42, and finally I find 45 but it is not what I would have imagined. In place of where Miró’s studio was there is now a small park, Square de l’Oiseau lunaire (Square of the Lunar Bird), inaugurated in 1969. The plaque at this park details the many artists who had a workshop in this location and hosts the sculpture Miró donated in memory of 45 rue Blomet. Even though I was really looking forward to seeing a building in this location where I could get a very real sensation of what this meeting and work place looked like, the fact that there is still a gathering place for people to enjoy shows me its ongoing importance. It is beautifying and honoring a location where many artists felt inspired to come together and create, and that power still lives there. After taking the time to sit on a bench and take in everything I could, I decided to move on to the one location I know still exists.

Galerie Maeght is a gallery where Miró had many group and solo exhibitions. It is also a business that has been passed down and is still owned by the Maeght family. It is not difficult to find and I excitedly enter to try to communicate my purpose for being there. Luckily, the lady there speaks Spanish and so I tell her about my project and what I am researching. She then informs me that they have the original catalogs for one of the exhibitions Miró had here. This has to be one of the greatest finds today. I look through the three catalogs she pulls out for me to decide which treasure I would like to take home with me. I decide on the catalog for a show that was during the last twenty years of his life. These catalogs also have printed lithographs by Miró for your own collection. One of the desires Miró expressed was to make his art accessible to the public and this was evidence to that. Anyone who wanted was able to take some of his art home with them in the catalog. I find this to be a very beautiful detail.

The exterior of Picasso's home from 1936-1955, where he painted Guernica. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

The exterior of Picasso’s home from 1936-1955, where he painted Guernica.

My last stop is to find the location where Pablo Picasso painted Guernica in 1937. Guernica was exhibited in the Spanish Republican Pavilion at the Paris Universal Exposition, as was Miró’s painted response to the turmoil of the times, The Reaper . I find myself again venturing into hidden streets with graffiti-decorated walls and narrow uneven roads. Finally I reach a tall building with a gated entrance and luckily another plaque informs me that I have arrived at my desired destination. I am not allowed to enter but knowing this is where an incredibly important piece of work was created gives me satisfaction enough. Guernica and The Reaper were created as political protests against the dictator Francisco Franco and Paris was the perfect location to exhibit them. It was a center where freedom was an idea taken very seriously and innovation was happening every day. People were trying to find themselves and the future and the options were endless. I believe this is what attracted Miró to Paris on a conscious or subconscious level; he knew this was a place where he could be free to create and experiment in a manner that continued on to his last days.

A sunny day in Paris. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

A sunny day in Paris. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

Top image: The Eiffel Tower. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala. www.gabrielaayala.com

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Finding Miró: Fundació Pilar i Miró

Join special projects intern Gabriela Ayala every Friday as she travels in Miró’s footsteps through Europe.

Palma de Mallorca, Spain

I find myself twenty minutes from the city center, on a hill, with a gifted view of the water, boats, and buildings. I have an appointment to meet with a conservator here at the foundation. I know that between me and this black barred gate is where Miró lived and worked from 1956 until his death in 1983. I am greeted with a Spanish hello and taken down to the basement level of the Foundation. I am more than pleasantly surprised. The conservator has picked actual drawings out of their archives for me to look through with care. I have Miró in my hands, the real deal. These papers were the launching to bringing into existence his colorful paintings, prints, and sculptures. Again, I see that when Miró had an idea there was not enough time to find a sketchbook. Drawings and thoughts were jotted down on anything and everything. It is important to note that Miró was purposeful. Everything was well thought out and with reason. His pieces may appear spontaneous but in reality he was eccentrically detail oriented. An observant man who was aware of himself, of life, and the many details life has to offer us when we are willing to see.

A workspace in Miró's studio. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

A workspace in Miró’s studio. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

As if this is not enough, I know Miró’s studio comes next. I have already seen photos of this and even in just black and white I could see that it was amazing. Again, a building designed by friend Josep Lluís Sert, wing-like shapes line the roof giving it an incredibly modern look. The highly textured wooden doors that seem more a part of an Old Spanish home, quickly and beautifully counteract the modernity. The structure is white and all the doors and shutters to the windows are different colors. This building could not scream Miró any louder. The brass handle is opened and I walk into any artist’s dream come true. The studio is large and spacious with natural light coming in from all directions. Tall walls and large windows showing the surrounding nature make the room feel even larger and connected to the outside world. The studio is kept in a way that is genuine to how Miró had it while working. Any inspirational items, clippings, or photos are pinned to the walls. There is an open top floor that gave Miró the ability to get a bird’s eye view on what he was working on. He mostly painted downstairs and drew up stairs. His supplies are still scattered on tables around the studio and a familiar whicker rocking chair sits still in the center of everything. There is still action and movement in the studio in the splatters of paint and footprints left on the floor. It is, simply put, beautiful.

Exterior of Fundació Pilar i Miró. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

Exterior of Fundació Pilar i Miró. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala

I ask where Miró did his printmaking and sculptures; I am informed I have not seen it all. We follow a curved gravel path with trees and flowers leading us. Up a small ways there is a large white house that was once a farmhouse from the 18th century. It is a very typical Mallorcan country home from the time and is kept in these same conditions on the interior as well. Small shutters cover the windows to the home and two large wooden doors decorate the façade. Just behind these doors is a glass door that senses us and automatically opens. Obviously this is a contemporary addition to the home. This simple floor plan has a square center space and four rooms that connect to it. I step into the entryway with walls that look like one large sketchbook. There are drawings directly on the walls, paint on the stone floors, and Miró’s presence splattered around every corner. There is a print studio on the bottom level and all sorts of molds used by Miró scattered about the house. I am then taken upstairs to an area that is not usually seen by the public and witness the remnants from the last months of Miró’s life. This was another space for painting but the remarkable part is to see how many prepared canvases Miró had in these rooms. He had some big plans. Miró worked literally until his dying day. Lastly, I am taken to the one room where no art materials abide. This was a room merely for Miró to sit and relax. It shows his personality in a very different way than anything else I had seen at this point. There is a small round table off to the right with a chair and a couple of collected items on a shelf. This room of dark red walls has four portraits that inhabit its space: one each of his mother, his father, Pablo Picasso, and Joan Prats. Two narrow wooden doors lead to a large terrace where again that gifted view presents itself. I now can fully understand why Miró chose to move from the bustle of Barcelona to the peace of Palma.

Top image: Detail of a workspace in Miró’s studio. Photographer: Gabriela Ayala. www.gabrielaayala.com 

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