Westmoreland
Art Museum
Having rarely traveled or been to museums before, I knew
this would be an interesting experience. I have never been much of an art guy—I
took an art class in high school and didn’t really enjoy it, because I don’t
see much in pictures—so I really didn’t know what to expect.
After glancing at the photos, I admired their beauty. Being an artist (a writer) myself, I understood creativity. Later on when I was touring the second floor, there was some art that I didn’t get. I saw logs on a stick. Logs on a stick, I thought. I don’t understand. I then turned to see a gigantic poster crumpled in many different ways, with random color splotches all over it. A crumpled poster is art? I wondered.
But at the second floor, the art was more straightforward. I recorded a video of the entire first floor so I would be able to look back and study the art more closely and try to think about how the art makes me feel. Some of the paintings made my head feel jumbled, with many of them being abstract art with seemingly random placements of colors and shapes. Many of the paintings made me feel cold, due to their soft blues or wintery and autumn settings.
After seeing the simple objects, I couldn’t understand what the artist saw in needing to paint an everyday, simple object, such as the three flower pots. It made me realize that it is important to appreciate the smaller things and admire the beauty of even the everyday objects we see every day.
Each time I went to look at a painting, I couldn’t help but only stare for a few seconds and move on to the next painting. I could stare at one for minutes and not really understand what else I can get out of it. The painting of the cows grazing in the snowy fields was one of them.
But I would always keep in mind the question, how long did it take to paint this picture? I imagined an artist painting for days and days, throwing it away and painting for another week before getting that one painting just right.
There were a few paintings were their beauty reached deep down into my heart. One such painting had sunflowers at the front, with other groups of flowers in the middle near a white, two-story house which was between two dark trees. I think the angle and the flowers is what did it for me. There was one painting that was only a vast field of sunflowers; again, I could feel the paintings beauty—feel it, not only see it with my eyes—and I stared at this one longer than others.
When I passed by a painting of a set of keys I thought, A painting of keys? What? I wondered a similar sentiment when I passed by photographs of coffee pots, where there was there sets of the same blue pot, but mainly at different angles and with a shade of a lighter color for the background.
A photograph of a couple holding an umbrella as they walk down the sidewalk between a pond and autumn trees with street lights nearby really caught my eye.
Every time I continued seeing a painting of an everyday, simple object, I thought, What is it that the artists see in these that they would spend their valuable time of their life painting these?
When I continued walking around, I saw guys in matching clothes, almost acting as guards, and were pretty intimidating. The sculptures and statues I saw, I truly admired.
My favorite part of the trip was probably when the artist lady, Sue Pollins, was telling the story of how a photographer won a contest by taking a picture of her hand. I thought, What? And it just sent me into further confusion about art, not understanding how a picture of a hand could win over all the other different kinds of photographs. Her painting of the fruit on the table was very beautiful.
I recorded my time inside the Westmoreland Art Museum, and after watching the video, it seemed like art to me, capturing each photograph for a few seconds so I can have a quick look at each one, just the way I like it.
(Want to see a tour of the first floor of the museum? Check out my YouTube video, here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pKiftu7wck )
After glancing at the photos, I admired their beauty. Being an artist (a writer) myself, I understood creativity. Later on when I was touring the second floor, there was some art that I didn’t get. I saw logs on a stick. Logs on a stick, I thought. I don’t understand. I then turned to see a gigantic poster crumpled in many different ways, with random color splotches all over it. A crumpled poster is art? I wondered.
But at the second floor, the art was more straightforward. I recorded a video of the entire first floor so I would be able to look back and study the art more closely and try to think about how the art makes me feel. Some of the paintings made my head feel jumbled, with many of them being abstract art with seemingly random placements of colors and shapes. Many of the paintings made me feel cold, due to their soft blues or wintery and autumn settings.
After seeing the simple objects, I couldn’t understand what the artist saw in needing to paint an everyday, simple object, such as the three flower pots. It made me realize that it is important to appreciate the smaller things and admire the beauty of even the everyday objects we see every day.
Each time I went to look at a painting, I couldn’t help but only stare for a few seconds and move on to the next painting. I could stare at one for minutes and not really understand what else I can get out of it. The painting of the cows grazing in the snowy fields was one of them.
But I would always keep in mind the question, how long did it take to paint this picture? I imagined an artist painting for days and days, throwing it away and painting for another week before getting that one painting just right.
There were a few paintings were their beauty reached deep down into my heart. One such painting had sunflowers at the front, with other groups of flowers in the middle near a white, two-story house which was between two dark trees. I think the angle and the flowers is what did it for me. There was one painting that was only a vast field of sunflowers; again, I could feel the paintings beauty—feel it, not only see it with my eyes—and I stared at this one longer than others.
When I passed by a painting of a set of keys I thought, A painting of keys? What? I wondered a similar sentiment when I passed by photographs of coffee pots, where there was there sets of the same blue pot, but mainly at different angles and with a shade of a lighter color for the background.
A photograph of a couple holding an umbrella as they walk down the sidewalk between a pond and autumn trees with street lights nearby really caught my eye.
Every time I continued seeing a painting of an everyday, simple object, I thought, What is it that the artists see in these that they would spend their valuable time of their life painting these?
When I continued walking around, I saw guys in matching clothes, almost acting as guards, and were pretty intimidating. The sculptures and statues I saw, I truly admired.
My favorite part of the trip was probably when the artist lady, Sue Pollins, was telling the story of how a photographer won a contest by taking a picture of her hand. I thought, What? And it just sent me into further confusion about art, not understanding how a picture of a hand could win over all the other different kinds of photographs. Her painting of the fruit on the table was very beautiful.
I recorded my time inside the Westmoreland Art Museum, and after watching the video, it seemed like art to me, capturing each photograph for a few seconds so I can have a quick look at each one, just the way I like it.
(Want to see a tour of the first floor of the museum? Check out my YouTube video, here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pKiftu7wck )
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