Light Is the Lion That Comes Down to Drink, Oil on Canvas, 48”x67”
Last Thursday, I went back to see Bouquets to Art at the de Young Museum. I had stumbled on it last year, and now it has become part of my birthday week tradition. I absolutely loved it, and highly recommend anyone in SF check it out next March when it will come back.
It’s a Saturday afternoon at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. A young man and woman wander through the 19th- and Early 20th-Century European Paintings and Sculpture galleries. They pause in front of Henri Regnault’s Salomé, a portrait of the notorious biblical femme fatale who, after performing a sexy dance for her stepdad, Herod, requested John the Baptist’s head on a silver platter. “She kind of looks like JLo,” says the woman. “God, you’re right,” replies the man. They simultaneously raise their iPhones and snap a picture.
After they move along, I take their place in front of Salomé. Her dark curls fall seductively by her bare shoulders. Her head tilts with a smirk, and her right hand rests on her hip. She gives off a definite fly-girl vibe. I take out my iPhone and a few minutes later Instagram my portrait of the portrait. I use the most common filter, which is #nofilter. Others see it in my feed. Some like it with a heart. And thus, a French artist who’s been dead for more than 140 years, a random duo at the Met and my followers on Instagram and I are all in conversation. And isn’t that the point of art?