Today I went to LACMA. I was supposed to start the day with a visit to the INS to get my biometrics done for my permanent residency renewal, but the computer was down, and they were unable to do them. I have to go back next week at 08:00 AM and stand in line, again.
Oh well - so I got to LACMA before it opened at noon, and gave Merav a call while I strolled around the La Brea tarpits. Fantastic talking to her, and catching up on her life. Busy, hectic, exciting and a little overwhelming - but she is doing great things professionally and personally.
There is an exhibit of works by Camille Pissarro (France, 1830-1903). A few of the works really caught my attention. "Railway Crossing At Le Patis, Near Pontoise" (1873) shows an amazingly beautiful scene. The short shadows on the dirt road, as it makes it's way up to the railway crossing, with it's red-painted fences and railings, betrays the time of day. The sun is high above the heads of the figures as they walk away from us. It is hot, dry and uncomfortable. The shutters on the earth-yellow building are painted the same deep rust red as the railings.
"Railroad Bridge, Pontoise" (1873) allows us to see the red-steel bridge as it slices it's way across the river, meandering it's way thru the countryside, only to skewer Pontoise. The river is shallow and slow moving at the time of the painting, the sky is reflected in baby-blue perfection. A few billowy clouds mirrored in the water. Clay tiled roofs stand by silently.
Another painting of the countryside near Pontoise shows us tall green daggers of trees piercing the horizon from the hill they stand on above the town.
From a distant vantage point we are shown Pontoise in relation to it's environs. A small town, huddled together in a shallow hollow. Trees and fields surrounding the town, a shimmering necklace of yellow and green. "L'Hermitage in Summer, Pontoise" (1877) allows us to see the long rolling hills as they gently arc across the distance. Far beyond the lowlands, we see a blue-clad mountain jutting up from the earth, not unlike a broad carved stone pillar base. Between the town, and the hills some kind of mill seems to be churning out white plumes of smoke skyward, the breeze gently carries the plumes toward the right.
And then I found another piece. This one struck me with a different emotion. A small clay relief, shows one of our saddest and most painful experiences as a people. This time however, it is seen from the eyes of the victorious Romans. "Spoils of the Temple: After a relief from the Arch of Titus, Rome" (1791) by Jean-Guillaume Moitte (France, 1746-1810) shows the legions of Rome who sacked the Beit Ha'Mikdash in Jerusalem carry their spoils - our glory - through the streets of Rome on their return from quelling the rebellious Jews once and for all. The soldiers - in civilian clothing for they were forbidden to carry arms, or wear the red tunic of the army inside the city - are clean shaven, with laurels in their hair. The crowds cheer and wave them on to the Forum. We can hear the crowds, and see the flowers and tributes falling on the soldiers as the bask in the adoration. They are victorious over not only the Jews, but their god. The golden menorah is hoisted to shoulder height, and is carried behind the silver trumpets, and the table of bread offerings.
How painful it must have been for Jews to see this image in Rome - and then to have it carved in stone, and placed inside the arch, for everyone who passes through to see.
Difficult to make sense of today, when the Temple is so far from our spiritual consciousness.
