25 March – Vienna 2

And then I walked into the next room, and my world exploded.

***

There are certain works of art and natural phenomena that we know to be profound, but they have been distilled into so many postcards and mouse-pads and magnets – they become so familiar, so ordinary, that when we see the genuine article, they can be a bit disappointing.Find me a person, who, after waiting in an eternal line (made all the longer by an endless stream of brazen jumpers), to enter the Louvre and following the signs pointing towards “La Gioconda”, actually feels moved or inspired upon catching their first glimpse at the “Mona Lisa”.  This is not the fault of the painting itself, nor certainly that of Signore da Vinci, no, it is the fault of a convergence of failings including, but not limited to, the fact that you are merely allowed a glance from the back edges of a crowd, while being jostled about; that the glass reflects odd shadows onto an already dark canvas; that it is smaller than you expect – and made smaller still by the distance between you and it; and that your own opinion is effected by the mob’s general lack of wonder and admiration– you can almost hear the scratching of mental pencils ticking it off To Do and See Lists.

On the other hand, The David doesn’t suffer from comparison.  You gasp as you spy its visage lording over its long hall.  It is flanked by The Prisoners – statues in potentia which Michelangelo did not feel merited freedom from their stony ova.  He glows – he looms – he has a spark of life within him.  He overcomes his imitators and leaves his guest in awe.

***

There I stood, and opposite me, floating, backed by black glass, I saw something and was touched on a cellular level.  I staggered back, or perhaps was still; my brain was flooded and encircled with the most intense feeling – a pressure or sorts, a dazzling, I can’t describe it.  It filled my limbs, but did not diffuse.  My ears pricked to catch a growing harmonic – and again, a wave, this time of sphere music^, crashed over me, embraced me.  It felt like being fast tracked to Nirvana – this great crush of feeling was nearly more than my body could hold.  As the shimmering moved towards my periphery, I could first see what had caused such a profound reaction.  For the first time in my life, I was in awe.This, this was all unexpected to say the least.  Unexpected of anything – but certainly of this – this painting that in diluted form hangs on 1 in 3 dorm walls, on mugs and bookmarks, on ceramic plates and in snow globes.  It is so familiar – this may be its great trick – it hides in plain sight, but reveals its glory seldom.After what may have been minutes or an hour, I pulled myself from it.  I had to; I had to pull and steal myself not to look back – knowing how easy it would be to give myself and lose myself to it forever. 

As I walked down the stairs and into the Viennese sunlight, I thought of all the many Creation tales, in which the world begins with a bang or a word or a song, and thought about the one that is never told – and yet is each of our own Creation story – the one in which the world begins with The Kiss.

***

Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss can change your life daily from 10 AM – 6 PM in the Upper Belvedere, Prinz-Eugenestrasse 27, Wien.

^Which I assume one movement of may be Arvo Pärt’s Cantus for Benjamin Britten.