Being that thoughts of travel are never far from my focus, it is hard for me to recall a time when I wasn’t passionate about travel and history. Yet, when looking back, the first seeds of my passion were only ignited my sophomore year of college when I took my first art history class. I was in no way prepared for the impact that this class would have on me and the strong foundation it gave me when I started my first travel adventures a year and half later.
From day one, the professor’s zest for art history transported me to a world I had never been exposed to and that I hungered to be a part of. Art and the history of ancient cultures came to life under his touch. He was a magical storyteller and would regale the class with tales of political intrigue, deceit, love and all sorts of juicy historical tidbits expertly woven alongside his own travel tales. I can still vividly recall his stories about zooming down the narrow cobbled streets of Venice on a motorcycle, or seeing Michelangelo’s Moses housed in San Pietro in Vincoli in Rome for the first time, or what he felt when roaming the marble corridors of the Louvre surrounded by unimaginable treasures. Fifteen years later, I still think of him when I encounter a painting or sculpture that I studied during that semester with him.
During this class, I fell in love with my first piece of art, The Winged Victory of Samothrace. Discovered in 1863, this 2nd century BC Greek marble sculpture from an unknown artist is housed in the Louvre in Paris, France. The impossible beauty of this Hellenistic sculpture captured my interest immediately. Passion oozes from her outstretched wings and arched back and the glorious folds of her dress cling intimately to her. I vowed to see her in the flesh one day soon. If she was this magnificent on paper, what would she look like in person?
As fate would have it, I went to Europe less than two years later. I was studying abroad in the Midlands of England and went on a backpacking adventure in Europe during my Christmas break. The Louvre was my first stop when I arrived in Paris.
I wasn’t prepared for the spectacular sight of her dominating the top of the Daru staircase posed on the remains of the helm of a ship. I was awestruck by her grace and power and left speechless by her majestic beauty. I approached her hesitantly and sat nearby soaking in her elegance. She moved me in unexpected ways that first visit. I never knew that a piece of art could speak to you with such emotions. My appreciation for art grew tenfold that day.
Even after all these years, I still have the same reaction whenever I am fortunate enough to visit her in all her glory. She continues to seduce me and I fall in love all over again.
Do you have any pieces of art that speak to you?
I've never seen her in person, but I love Paris, and I love art, and my art history professor in college also loved this particular statue. I think the most moved I've been by art wasn't necessarily a piece of fine art--which is strange, because that's what I studied in undergrad: art history. But I think that music and live performance are (or can be) works of art, and I was most moved when I encountered a piano player in the underground portion of the elevated train station in Chicago several years ago. I'm sure it had something to do with how I was feeling at the time, what the circumstances were, etc., but this street performer, with his electronic piano keyboard, and his hat open for change, actually moved me to tears. The piece of classical music he was playing filtered throughout the station's enclosed space, and it created an amazing atmosphere. It still gives me the chills thinking about it. Thanks for reminding me what art can do. I must go to Paris soon!
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