The Milkmaid

Last Saturday afternoon I visited The Frick Collection and The Metropolitan Museum of Art for Cabinets of Wonder. For each visit, Nancy has asked us to gather our first impressions of the place, observe others in the space, and write a collection of short reviews, adopting a variety of viewpoints.

The Frick always seems to me like a building that exists in a New York City outside of time, staying the same no matter what changes around it. The light rain that was falling as I walked up to the door heightened this effect. The romance that surrounds the Frick inspires a sort of daydream of what it might have been like to live in the era of Henry Clay Frick and his peers, but as a visitor I was quickly brought back to earth by the crowd squeezing past three security guards to exit as I entered the building. The entrance to the museum is confusing, despite the fact that there’s only one path to follow– multiple people seemed to be giving visitors instructions, but none of them loudly enough so that people could understand. The attempt at business-like moving along of visitors and stern protection of the collection felt distinctly at odds with an attempt to maintain an aura of hushed awe. The staff almost seemed like they were deliberately acting out the often contradictory missions of museums to protect their collections while sharing them with the public.

Most visitors at the Frick had their audio guides glued to their ears. They rarely spoke to each other, and it was often difficult to tell who was visiting together. Most of the visitors were older adults, many of whom were speaking French or German. I wonder if maybe the formality of the museum causes people to rely even more heavily on their guides than elsewhere; visitors here seemed to closely measure their time in  front of each work according to the guide. The heavy reliance on guides makes possible very minimal signage, which suits the environment of this museum very well, but I found the audio guide jarring, and much preferred walking around quietly on my own. I was sorry they didn’t offer printed guides to borrow. One side effect of the heavy reliance on audio guides is that visiting the Frick becomes a very solitary experience for people.

At the Met, on the other hand, there was a lot of discussion going on. Pairs of people, families, and groups of friends were milling around in the lobby, loudly discussing where to go and what they wanted to see. Even on the steps outside of the Met there is a kind of anticipatory cheerfulness in the air. I love climbing those steps. I don’t even mind the small crash I feel as I encounter grouchy staff, confusing maps, and the overwhelming crowd streaming in and out; being overwhelmed and frustrated is just part of the experience of going to the Met. It usually feels like I have to earn the right to see whatever it is I want to see. Once past the lobby, though, I almost had the place to myself this time. I was able to walk right up to Vermeer’s Milkmaid, and it actually felt like I was sharing something special with the tiny group of people who happened to also be there, instead of feeling like I was battling for a tiny, unsatisfying glimpse. I wandered over to the American Wing and sat still for a while, watching people admire the sculptures as they passed through. Several families with small children passed by, and several of them were led by young children who were excitedly talking about what they were seeing, where they had been, and what they wanted to see. In fact, some of the kids were just about dragging their guardians from exhibit to exhibit. Despite the overwhelming “bigness” of the Met, these kids all seemed to see it as a place to explore– they didn’t seem intimidated by it at all, which is probably a good thing for me to remember the next time I am looking at that huge list of exhibits.

The Met– from a “Cheap Dates in New York City” guide: “The Met is open until 9pm on Fridays and Saturdays, and the place is practically empty. The entrance fee is a ’suggested donation’ so donate what you wish and save your money for drinks on the roof. Then head for the Egyptian Art gallery where the glimmering light reflected off the pool surrounding the Temple of Dendur will flatter even the ugliest among us. From there you can easily wander over to smooch in a hidden nook in Medieval Art or in an abandoned aisle of  the American Wing’s Visible Storage (it sounds totally unromantic, but trust us, there is something weirdly alluring about being alone in that maze of cases).”

The Frick– from a group of 16-year-old girls: “It was fun at first– everything is so fancy– but then it got boring. All the paintings kind of look the same after a while. There were a couple we liked, but those ear things are annoying, and the guy just talks and talks. One of the security guys was humming, which was kind of funny, but other than that we sort of felt like we were about to get kicked out the whole time we were there. It’s weird that the only place you can really sit down for long is by the fountain in the middle– we’re supposed to pick a painting and write about it for school, but there’s nowhere to actually do that, so we had to keep walking back and forth between the paintings and the fountain. Also, are you not supposed to use the bathroom in between the galleries? Because there’s this sign in there that says people with disabilities have priority, but it doesn’t say that on the outside, so what are you supposed to do? Are you supposed to leave and go to the other bathroom, or is it rude to stay there, or what?”

The Met– from an 11-year-old boy: “I thought I wasn’t going to like the Met very much, because my parents really like to go to museums. A lot. And we usually go see paintings that are kind of boring– like of flowers or something, but this time I got to see armor, which was so cool! They had all the helmets and spears, and tournament armor, and swords and spurs and they even had some armor from Japan. I really liked seeing all that stuff up close. My dad says maybe we’ll come back and I can draw some of it, because I normally just copy out of books or from the internet. Oh, and then we got to see some stuff from Egypt, which was pretty cool, too. I saw a wall painting from Egypt that was from around 2010 b.c., which is basically like the same amount of time from us in the opposite direction from b.c. So long ago!”