I’m pretty sure that this museum is like an abusive relationship:
- Stage One: when it starts, it’s so fun and playful – it’s like the best museum ever! First stop is the Toy Gallery, currently featuring an exhibition on Playmobile: a bajillion Playmobile figurines set up in elaborate tableau by OCD artists! Videos showing how they’re made by automated machinery! Ten-foot-tall statues of giant Playmobile Indians, complete with giant feather headdresses! It’s like I’m on the set of 3-2-1 Contact!
- Stage Two: from toy funland, you’re suddenly plunged into the pain and darkness of the medieval and Renaissance collections of “decorative” “arts.” What happened to the creative, caring museum that I first knew? Why is it now attacking me with the crappiest collection of broken, over-restored, possibly fake, and just generally terribly ugly collection of objects I’ve ever seen? (Sobbing) I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize this painting by the anonymous master of some other altarpiece in a town that I’ve never heard of! I won’t ever do it again! No, please don’t show me ten more of his paintings! Noooo….
- Stage Three: just when you’ve decided that enough is enough and that you’re leaving – suddenly everything is good again. 17th century Chinoiserie – how charming! Elegant period rooms, a gigantically elaborate bed of a 19th century courtesan, amusingly high concept/ low comfort 20th century furniture – I’m so glad that I didn’t give up on you, museum my love! You never really meant to hurt me!
The problem is that I can’t tell if I actually liked the later collections, or if I only convinced myself I did as a self-justification for suffering through the early ones. Somebody needs to visit, starting only on the 4th floor, and let me know.
