I can vividly recall the experience of elementary school field trips, rushing home brandishing a permission slip and brimming with anticipation. The prospect of a break from multiplication tables and spelling tests carried me through the week. Even as children, my peers and I sought a break from the monotony. These breaks were nothing special in our small town; our destinations were rarely very fascinating. Nonetheless, nothing could dampen our spirits.
This Sunday, I visited the Cleveland Museum of Art with my honors first-year seminar. We were set loose with one task: to find artwork that really spoke to us.
As I meandered the endless halls, I was struck with a familiar feeling. This excursion echoed field trips of days past. I felt a familiar spark of excitement, one that had lingered throughout the week before the visit.
I, like many John Carroll students, have settled into the routine of the semester as it stretches seemingly endlessly onward. As such, I was excited for a little variance last week, a reward for my diligence. I reveled in the opportunity to explore the arts, something I hold dear alongside my academics.
As our shuttle trundled towards the entrance, I admired the grandeur and the sheer size of the museum. In my life in Cleveland thus far, I have become accustomed to boxes of brick and concrete, nothing of this intricacy.
This carried into the inside as well: the atrium ceilings soared, the floors sparkled and flashes of artworks lured me into their galleries from all angles. My roommate and I set out immediately on our quest to absorb as much of the museum’s offerings as possible. I soon found myself drawn into the gazes of picturesque portraiture.
I reveled at the details captured so perfectly by paintbrush: an elder’s milky, wrinkled skin; a plush fur collar; a ruffled bonnet of lace. My roommate was particularly struck by the sweeping American landscapes and the towering renditions of ancient angels. Every piece seemed to emit its own lifelike glow.
Even the pieces that made us uncomfortable were hard to depart from. Many pieces ventured into the blunt or garish, but were fascinating to learn about nonetheless. Every room held such a vast variety of art that it felt impossible to see everything in turn, and indeed it was. I left entire wings of the museum untouched, much to my disappointment. My classmates and I agreed that, if left to our own devices, we could have spent an entire day exploring.
We also shared the excitement of ‘escaping’ campus, however brief it was, in a mimicry of easier, more youthful days. The excitement of a college field trip heightened our collective spirits. My classmates described the experience of so much art as “mesmerizing”, “intense” and even “spiritual”.
To me, this demonstrates not only the power of art upon the human psyche, but the power of memory. An escape from typical studies has always meant a promise of fun, a positive association. I think that, consciously or not, many of my peers were reminded of elementary school field trips and could easily appreciate a learning experience beyond their Canvas to-dos. I, for one, will be making a trip back to pick up where I left off, and I hope for more opportunities to broaden my studies here at John Carroll.
