Floods, Tears and a Documentary for the Weekend

I wrote a few days ago on social media how my AC unit leaked and did some serious damage to about 30 of my books. Luckily, I had many (but not all) of my books in archival plastic bags.

If you ever find yourself with a wet book, do NOT stand it up (I did so for my photos so I knew which books had been damaged. I should have waited, though.) Read this and see my photos below. We were very, very lucky to have had an order of paper towels arrive last week. We've also been in a heat wave (with no working AC) for a couple of days now. I am hoping that the intense heat helped but the damaged books are still wavy and curvy, so it's not looking good. I am very grateful that many of my books were in plastic bags (including my oversized art ones in giant ziploc bags until I can get gigantic archival bags for them!) 

There are piles of books everywhere as I move things around to dry and to keep them away from the still leaking AC unit. Living in a one bedroom with three adults and now even more piles of books on the floor can make for some challenging times for some. Thankfully, my son has been understanding as I invade his bedroom with piles of my books.

It's been very hot in our little apartment. So, I've mostly been laying low and reading James Elkins' Pictures and Tears. Have you read this? It contains several interesting anecdotes on people's reactions to seeing art in person. 

The stories that have stuck out the most to me have been about the Rothko Chapel, John Singer Sargent's Daughters of Edward D. Boit and Edward Kienholz's Five Car Stud(1969-1972). That said, I'm barely a quarter of the way through the book. I keep having to put it down to research the work (not all of the art is shown.)

I have another book about art and tears that I've been looking at and will share that another day.

I burst out crying at the Norton Simon during a Van Gogh exhibit a few years ago. Rereading the blog post, I wrote then that it was about how emotional it was to see one of his letters in person, this is very, very true. I also remember though how deeply sad I was at the sheer number of people who would walk up to his paintings, snap a photograph and walk away without ever really looking at it. That stuck with me and is one of my biggest pet peeves in museums, people not really looking at the art. 

I have been greatly moved by art. I have lists of paintings that have haunted me and kept me up at night. This is the only experience I can remember of crying in a museum.

On a side note, the documentary ‘Five Seasons: The Gardens of Piet Oudolf’ is streaming free this weekend only. Catch it here.

Has seeing (not creating) art ever brought you to tears? Whose art and do you know why?