Cherry blooms, over-the-top Victorian architecture, and Egyptian pharaohs came together this past Sunday, as I made my way home from the East Side, stopping into the temple of art for a few minutes, before joining Mr. Husband for Brunch on the other side of town.
"My god!" I thought to myself. Just how many trees does it take to create these things? Be that as it may, they are stunning, even if that word is a bit over-used. They fairly loom over one, being at least 14 feet tall, the vases themselves being about 6 feet off the ground, which gives them a sense of grandeur, which must have been intentional, don't you think?
However, the main hall looked quite different when it opened, being stuffed with statuary—as old photographs have revealed, these niches not having flowers in them. Whoever dreamed the idea up—and they've been there for as long as I can remember—had a sense of style, that's for sure.
Spring at the Met. Come see it for yourself. The admission is still suggested, though there was a scare a few years ago that it would become mandatory, but a public outcry beat that idea back, and good too. Kids and young adults shouldn't have to pay 21 bucks to see great art, and they are the ones who need exposure to this stuff more than anyone, that is, if our country is going to have any kind of cultural future. Plunk down a buck, and no one will bat an eye, believe me. It's a great place!