Staring at an artistc masterpiece for minutes on end. Perusing ancient statutes, paintings, and handcrafted pottery. Sitting before a behemoth Miro or Picasso, mesmerized by bright colors. Hours on end staring at Van Gogh’s chunky brush strokes from every angle. Days spent wandering museums from Amsterdam to Paris to St. Petersburg to New York City to Madrid. Then along came a baby.
My love of museums didn’t stop and I kept trucking. With my baby tucked in a baby carrier, we journeyed through the Louvre and the Norton Simon Museum. But then he turned into a rambunctious toddler . Once he wouldn’t stay in a baby backpack, I thought my museum wanderlust was resigned to stimulus overload at children’s museums. And then I had a second child and became scared of losing my kids in the whirlwind of motion at the kids museum.
Yet, at, here we are at an art museum at last. We are in Atchi, Japan, known for hot spring inns (onsen ryokans) that are centuries old. It is also known for MOA, Museum of Art, standing over the city on an oceanside cliff. I don’t know what got into me but I decided to take the family to the museum. The sky looked with rain clouds waiting to burst, so we drove off to the museum.
The ride alone was worth the trip. We swerved through curvy local roads and spied on life outside the touristy resorts. Around every bend, ocean vistas appeared. The feeling of impending death on narrow, curvy roads in Japan never gets old. As the museum neared, we drive through a bamboo forest wonderland. The museum appeared, with Roman Greco columns of white. So….Japanese…
Suddenly the anxiety creeped up. Our relative was dropping us off with no car and two kids at an isolated museum. We would be there for hours with two nap-deprived kids. And onward we go!
The museum is sandwiched between a bamboo garden and an ocean side perch. There is not a bad view in sight. The vastness of the ocean and the high-in-the-sky bamboo dwarf my stress. I am reminded that the world keeps on turning to the hand of an awesome Creator, and I start to settle into zen, kids and all.
This museum is like the Getty in Los Angeles; you can come just for the view and the grounds and have a wonderful time. Oh wait, there is art to be seen? Who wants to be indoors with this view?
Old me would grab a map and plot out a whirlwind tour through the key collections. New me is focused on finding the cafe. Nursing hunger pains! Plus, well-fed kids are less cranky. We find the restaurant which overlooks the museum gardens with floor to ceiling windows. Better yet, the food was so delicious, we ordered another round! The restaurant sticks with local ingredients and the freshness is clear. We had a pork meatloaf (in Japan, this is a hamburger) served on a sizzling black stone. It was surrounded by local mushrooms, radish, potatoes, eggplant, and onions, all sizzling in the pork juice. Everyone, baby included, indulged in it. Highly recommended! Go for the view and be surprised by the food.
The next stop was the tea rooms. The museum houses an indoor tea room constructed gilded gold. It is perfectly preserved. I loved it for the history and a love of all things tea. The boys loved it for it’s blinding shininess.
Afterwards, we traveled outdoors to the other tea room, one that actually serves tea! The museum garden contains a classic summer residence with ancient Japanese architecture and gorgeous gardens. We could have spent all day there. The kids loved roaming the moss-sprinkled pathway, destroying the zen in the rock garden, and roaming around ancient corridors. I loved immersing myself in a bygone era and the serenity of the gardens. I am also a tea nerd, and loved drinking freshly made matcha (green tea powder) in the tea room overlooking the gardens.
Eventually, we went inside to see the art. We spent all of our time in a temporary exhibit about light. The kids, and the grown ups, loved it. As a result, this is my only photo of traditional Japanese art forum the permanent collection:
In the end, my kids taught me a new way to enjoy museums. It turns out I am less cranky when I am well fed. The art was more enjoyable on a full stomach. But beyond that, they forced me to slow down and really live the experience. Did I see every masterpiece in the museum? No. Did I read about the history and symbolism in the pieces? No. Did I stop, breathe, stroll, and take in the grounds and residences like a local from the past? You bet.
When it came to the actual art, my son introduced me to the joys of more experiential art. We spent half an hour in front of an interactive screen projection where our sillouhettes controlled the movement of colorful balls (see the featured image of this post). My son ran back and forth between colorful light displays. As his face lit up with wonder, so did mine. He reminded me the world is magical and the best art is to be fully enjoyed. And whatever you do, take the scenic route. (This includes the museum’s endless elevator corridor, filled with colored lights and surround sound symphony music).
This elevator has at least four sections this long and seems to travel to the center of the earth.