We didn't tie a bow around it, but we did put it in a box.

For you, for me, for everyone.

It's a very nice box, though.

And the present is its newly opened Art of the Americas wing.

And what's in it is fabulous!

Five thousand pieces of art on four floors, all from, uh, us. Just the Americas, old and new, South and North, big and small, in fifty-three galleries that make so much sense your brain says to you “Of course! This was always meant to be with that.”

One Big, Beautiful Box

The new wing, the culmination of a 10-year-long effort and a more-than $500 million fundraising campaign, is not glommed onto or smashed into the original building; it feels delicately nudged into place, like the docking of a space ship. Turns out, for “seismic reasons” (I am not making that up) it is actually a separate building, joined oh so gently at certain spots to the other building.

A little bit more…a little bit more…hold it…perfect!

You enter the new wing through the Ruth and Carl J. Shapiro Family Courtyard, a huge space filled with…space. It actually feels filled with space, not all empty and void-like (I hate that).

For the spatially challenged, this is a very very large space

Its walls of glass provide views into the garden and the wings of the original building, not to mention all that sunlight.

Am I outside looking in, or inside looking out?

It was designed to become “a new social space for Boston,” as Malcolm Rogers, Director of the Museum, has said about it. The acoustics are great, the space is beautiful.

"Welcome to the wide open space of the Prairie, ma'am." "You're still in Boston, Steve."

Arty-pants

It’s almost hard to belive that there are 5,000 pieces of art on display, so well planned is the building and the layout.

“Fifty-three galleries” sound like a lot—too much, almost—but it isn’t.

You know how the traditional idea of museum display is seems to be one big room after another in an endless and (let’s be honest) tedious procession to the horizon? Well, this ain’t that.

These are small(ish) rooms laid out around a longer room or two, and the space and placement of the pieces makes it a pleasure to wander about and through the wing without making you think, “Please dear GAWD when will we get to the last picture.”

This is more, “Oo, lookit that! And that! And that!”

The galleries are multi-art-istic, in that they show paintings and sculptures and woodworking and silversmithing and other things that the Museum considers artistically worthy. Why have just Singleton Copley’s famous painting of Paul Revere when you can also have Paul Revere’s famous bowl?

You know, I DID do a good job on that bowl. Now about this teapot…

If you can show a mahogany sideboard, why not show a room-that-could’ve-have-that-sideboard-in-it, too? Two-dimentional and three-dimentional art in the same place, in the same space, complementing and enhancing one another. Balancing and rounding out what the visitor sees, kind of like a “Oh, I get it,” moment.

Now THIS is a room with a view!

Peter, Paul, and Mary. And Trevor, and Susan, and Mario, and Inez…oh, and Ralph, too

One of the things the MFA does very well is making itself feel like anybody can walk into it and enjoy itself.

As someone who had no art in her house growing up that couldn’t be gotten at Sears—and who’s father would “conduct” his record of Grofé’s “Grand Canyon Suite” with her mother’s knitting needles—I am greatly appreciative that the MFA took the time to label each of the five-thousand pieces with a label that actually tells you something about what you’re looking at. (And just one fella was responsible for them all.)

Whatever you think this is about, it isn't. (Click the label to find out.)

The four floors present Americas art more or less in chrono order, from pre-Columbian unbelievableness to late-20th century coolness.

Start at the bottom, work your way up to the top, then stop at the Café in the Courtyard for quick refreshment.

Walk through any door and find yourself some fabulous art

All in all, the MFA’s Art of the America’s new wing is a major step forward in museum-ing. The wing itself is larger than most mid-size museums, and takes a fresh approach to the art of looking at things.

And you won’t feel like a dope even if this is your first/umpteenth time looking at them.

A storyteller by any other name is…a curator

So there you are, possessor of more than 15,000 pieces of us, all of it having value, but even with 133,000+ square feet of new exhibition space, you only have enough space to show 5,000 of them.

How do you decide what you show and what you don’t, and how do you show what you show in a way that tells the story(s) of what you’re showing?

My guess is, you talk a lot amongst yourselves. You put things up and you take things down. You sleep on it many a night. And finally, it gets decided.

That’s a lot of decision-making. And they did a great job.

Take a look at the behind the scenes decision-making process with the Wing’s “Behind the Scenes” rooms, both online and “behind” the galleries at the wing.

Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Mo…

My own Dramitis Personæ

Below are three things that made me stop. Granted, most of the things made me stop, but these things made me stop full stop.

Georgie Porgie Puddin’ and…Wow

Being an actual native Bostonian, there are things I know that apparently others don’t:

• Benjamin Franklin was a Bostonian (he didn’t get to Philadelphia until he was 17);
• John Adams defended the British soldiers involved in The Boston Massacre when it went to trial; and
• George Washington really did sleep here, in Longfellow’s House (when it was the Continental Army’s headquarters, I mean).

Since we were here when he was here, it’s not too much of a stretch for the MFA to have assembled a few important paintings that show him being himself (well, the himself we think he was).

And we’ve got one whopping lollapalooza of a painting of him being himself, The Passage of the Delaware by Thomas Sully, so big it needed its own wall.

Of COURSE this is a true-to-life depiction. George Washington was 18 feet tall. Everybody knows this.

And adorning the adjoining walls are the just-as-famous-only-smaller portraits of the very fine fellow, kind of a mini George-town, if you will.

(And if you would like to see the Boston Globe’s video highlight of this getting hung, here you go.)

Dusk still falls exactly like this

Trust me: there is no mouse pad, no canvas tote, no coffee mug, that can remotely show you what Childe Hassam’s Boston Common at Twilight actually looks like.

Wait, that's Tremont Street? Not Beacon? Huh.

Even if you get this close and personal to the painting in a photo, you still won’t see it.

You know the rule, girls: when the gaslights come on, we have to go home

The actual sun is actually setting in this painting. Really.

They had to come from somewhere

This happens every time.

You bring a kid to the museum and s/he starts to get antsy because s/he can’t touch anything and it’s just stoopid pictures on stoopid walls.

And then you show her/him this:

Mummy likes ME best

And then you put it into context (“This was painted way before even Granma was born”).

And then you point out that the two vases in the painting are the exact same two vases standing on either side of the painting.

And s/he actually stands still. For a second.

But this painting is not in my cast of characters.

No.

It’s this one:

Yes, from my loins

Their mother.

A nifty little bit of trivia:

Mrs. Edward Darley Boit by John Singer Sargent was given to the MFA by the littlest girl in the painting.

When she was 85 years old.

In 1963.

One reason you will be glad the Wing of the Americas has opened

There are close to a gazillion thirty Sargent items on display. In this one room.

Fishy-fishy-fish

When one glimpses this through the opening to the gallery:

What the…?

One immediately knows it’s a Tiffany, even if one only knows his style by the knockoff lamps available in ubiquity. But this, this is so much more, Tiffany-iac, that its impossible to walk away from this and think that that $149.99 lamp in that catalog will suffice.

The colors are just stop-and-stareable. Really, you will just stop and stare. And then you will move closer, and look at the different glass, and wonder at the fact that there’s so many different shades of greeny-yellow and yellowy-green. And then you will marvel at the way the MFA positioned the lighting to make it glow.

Wait a second…

And then you will notice the fish bowl.

This stained glass window has the stained glass goldfish swimming around in a fish bowl.

Gobsmacked. It’s an Irish word, slang really, that means astounded. And that’s what Louis Comfort Tiffany’s Parakeets with Gold Fish Bowl will make you.

You will sound both cultured and worldly when you say, “Tiffany’s gold fish bowl stained glass at the MFA left me utterly gobsmacked.”

Another reason you will be glad the Wing of the Americas has opened

Prior to the opening of AOTAW, Parakeets with Gold Fish Bowl was not on view.

Not. On. View.

MFA: “Most Fabulous Art”

The Art of the Americas Wing at the MFA is…something for all of us.

It is NOT a snooty only-the-people-who-contributed-are-allowed space.

It is NOT a sniffy if-you-don’t-already-know-what-you’re-looking-at-you-shouldn’t-be-looking-at-it locale.

It IS a place where everyone can come, and maybe see something that touches them, or maybe just feel glad that we are all part of the same species that can create such work.

The famous and well-known, the obscure and the off-beat, the pieces in the Wing are pieces of us. All of us.

Just walk in that once-again-opened front door, take a right at the visitors desk, and…be in the Americas.

Cool stuff

There are two online resources that are terrific for getting to know the Wing (click on the images to access).

The first is the Art of the Americas Wing section of the MFA’s website:

And the second is the “The MFA Takes Wing” online supplement of the Boston Globe:

Say, you don't make anything that goes with flip-flops, do you?

And if you were amongst the ladies of stratospheric means, you would want Arnold Scaasi to come up with it.

This old thing? Really darling, you're too too much of a flatterer...

Mr. Scaasi has spent the last 55 years (retired now, alas) making some of the most technically dazzling, stunningly luxurious outfits ever worn by women of wealth, and more than 100 of those outfits have been donated to the MFA. The Scaasi: American Couturier exhibit showcases 28 of these, worn by just four of his clients, and all I can say is, what clients! what clothes!

Honestly, who matches coat linings with dresses anymore?

Scaasi (which is Issacs—his actual last name—spelled backwards) was successful from the get-go, and his oeuvre was custom designed/made items that required 65 separate measurements to get them right.

Oh yes, we're sisters. The Scaasi sisters.

His clients loved him and how he made them look, and many became friends. And with friends like actress Arlene Francis, nightclub owner’s wife Joetta  Norban, super-uber rich Gayfryd Steinberg, and Barbara Streisand, could you possibly have enemies?

Babs, you so deserved that Oscar! And your tushie looked very cute in this.

I have named his style splash-wear, as in “Wow, you would have to splash out a lot of money for that dress.”

Cost of material: over $1,300 per yard. Amount of material: yards and yards.

The 28 pieces in this exhibit are sumptuous and event-specific. These are not things you would don to pop into the market for milk, baloney, and peanut butter. These are things that announce, “I am here. And I am here.”

That Scaasi's a genius--half of my dress is made out of plastic!

The wonderful thing about this exhibit is how close you can get to the clothes. You can get this close:

Not a stitch out of place.

But you can also stand back and get a frisson of the breadth and detail produced by Scaasi.

Oh, is that the caviar?

The clothing in this exhibit are examples of fine workmanship and attention to detail. Each and every piece is beautifully designed, the fabrics expertly chosen and pared, and the sewing top-notch.

All this beading is lovely, but the dress weighs about 22 pounds.

Even if you aren’t the daughter of a self-taught seamstress—a seamstress who once hand-sewed seventeen yards of lace to her god-daughter’s wedding dress—the Scaasi exhibit at the MFA will knock your socks off.

As usual, the curators at the MFA have done a fabulous job of creating a cohesive, approachable exhibit. It’s like walking into a live Vogue photo spread.

Scaasi: American Couturier

Saturday, September 25, 2010 – Sunday, June 19, 2011

Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Avenue of the Arts
465 Huntington Avenue
Avenue of the Arts
Boston, Massachusetts 02115-5523
617-267-9300
TTY: 617-267-9703

Photography courtesy of Wan Chi Lau

No, it's not a piece of paper stuck over her head, it's FASHION.

Put your best dress on, Martha, because you are going to want to go.

Wait, I'm almost ready!

Dorian Leigh, hat by Paulette, Paris studio, August 1949
Photograph Richard Avedon
© The Richard Avedon Foundation

Having grown up when I grew up (meaning that when I was in high school you were not properly attired until you had applied four shades of eye shadow and three shades of eye liner, wore sequins and tottered about in stilettos—yes, to first period Chemistry), what you wore defined who you were. Or rather, what you wore described who you hoped others would think you were.

And that’s what what we wear is about, isn’t it? Who you are, who you want to be thought of as, who you aspire to become. I still have evening gowns in my closet that I don on occasion (meaning, it’s Saturday morning and I’m the only one in the house), just to make sure I could still be “that” person if I need to/want to.

Mr. Avedon defined the look of fashion advertising, the look that people wanted to have for themselves. His photography gave movement and energy and joy, even, to clothing ads.

Wouldn't I look lovely in those…

Prior to his arrival (at the age of 21 with the sale of one photograph to Bonwit Teller’s for $7.50) photography of clothing was very practical, mostly in the form of studio-based front/back/side static poses.

Avedon took his models outside, in real surroundings (or made-to-look-real surroundings). The models were photographed twirling, primping, laughing. Good lord, these models could be actual people, doing actual people things! Caused quite a stir.

The fashionable way to jump a puddle

Avedon came to fashion photography just after the war. Harper’s Bazaar sent him to Paris to do some editorial fashion shots. Paris after the war was bombed out, and its people worn out. So much destruction to such a beautiful city, its culture and fashion dampened by four-and-a-half years of Nazi occupation, with shortages of everything from shoes to tires to milk.

Avedon’s images were images of hope, images that expressed the idea that women could once again look lovely and that Paris could once again be “The City of Lights.”

Twirling is not just for little girls…

And that was Avedon’s thing, as it were; expressing the idea that women were beautiful and loved wearing fashion. He captured how women enjoyed wearing clothes, as expressed in this image:

Enchenté, darling

Avedon worked continuously, and anticipated and embraced the changing ideas in the fashion world, from the opulent ‘50’s:

I get pouty when there's no champagne

To the “Youth Quake” of the ‘60’s:

Nothing like a fashion shoot with no clothes in it…

After long stints with Harper’s and Vogue, Avedon moved into more portraiture and advertising work. This exhibit, however, focuses exclusively on his fashion portfolio, and it’s a pleasure to meander through it, stopping at images that, well, make you stop. It’s almost hard to remember that fashion photography was his job, and he got paid to show off the clothes. His images make you want to be that person, not just wear what she’s wearing.

The quality of the images is stunning, but the exhibit doesn’t shy away from showing you the backroom, as it were.

Ya cut it here, ya slice it here, and we've got ourselves a good picture…

The design of the exhibition is very enjoyable. I highly suggest reading the wall text to garner a sense of the work and the time.

Darling, it's not paper, it's FASHION.

Okay, it might be paper. But just a little bit.

He was on assignment for The New Yorker when he died, doing what he loved doing right up to the end.

Thanks, man.

Avedon Fashion 1944-2000 is a traveling exhibit, organized by the International Center of Photography (ICP) with the cooperation of The Richard Avedon Foundation. It is at the MFA until January 17, 2011, and is free with admission to the museum.

These Egyptians might not’ve had a 401(k), but they were very very confident that their version of “retirement” would be a glorious one.

Talk about a transformational experience!

It’s all about the shtuff

Let’s say you were living in Egypt about 4,000 years ago, and were one of that culture’s Masters of the Universe.

You got the bling, baby, and lots of it; you got many many many people working for you, making your life (but not theirs) really comfortable; you want for not one single thing.

And then, in spite of all the wishing and, thinging, to the contrary, you and your lovely wife die.

How do you let the, um, folks of the nether world know who you are and where to put you, as it were, once you get to your post-mortem place?

Are we there yet?

(All images courtesy of Wan Chi Lau)

You bring examples of your here-and-now to the here-after, that’s what you do.

You bring examples of your large life-ness to show that you can take your place at the table of the gods.

It’s not enough to be called Djehutynakht (Jeh-HOO-dee-nacht) — the “other” name for Thoth —  you gots to got the godly goods, like a flotilla of boats to match the boat that the sun god Ra uses to cross the sky every day. Dinghies just won’t cut it, dude.

This IS the Nile, right?

Of course, the boats are models, but which is more impressive, one big boat or SIXTY models, each easily over a foot in length, with upwards of a dozen hand-made figures on them?

You go for the quantity, natch.

Each boat and each figure is hand-made, and each arm goes on only one figure and each figure goes in only one place on only one boat.

That’s a lot of workers working to secure your place in heaven (or wherever).

We could go a lot faster if we just had some oars...

Darling, you look marvelous

Of course, you would want to re-inhabit your body once you make the move, but if some ancient grave robbers robbed your grave of not only your jewelry but of your body, can you still get revived post-repose?

We cannot say what golden goodies those f*ckers may have taken, but they left a head atop one of the coffins.

At the mo’ nobody knows if the ‘huty Head is his or hers, but the CSI-ers in New York are working on that.

I have a headache like you wouldn't believe!

Like any good AE (Ancient Egyptian), you had your lungs, stomach, and intestines removed and stored in the special “guts jar” to have re-put-in; however, the brain and the heart apparently were not considered necessities in the after-life and were not saved.

Your Window to the Nether World

In order to be stylin’ you need to deck out your vehicle, which in your 4,000 year old case is your coffin.

Inside and out, your coffin’s coffin’s coffin (yes, you have three) is designed and painted to the max.

Are we there yet?

You would also want a gazillion hand-carved inscriptions written in hieroglyphics describing what you will and will not do (“I will not eat feces,” I swear to Horus), how much stuff you’ve brought and how to re-establish/animate yourself (it’s either “You put the lime in the coconut” or “The thigh bone’s connected to the hip bone,” I forget which).

I think he spelled that wrong...

And now, a word from our sponsor

So how cool is this, your coffin is the finest, the very finest, of its type in the whole wide world. Today, I mean. Your coffin is THE Middle Kingdom coffin, anywhere. And it’s the MFA’s, and has been since Harvard/MFA excavated it in 1915.

The coolness of the exhibition is that everything in it, from the teeny-tiny mirror in the priest’s hand to the linen-wrapped mummy head comes from one single collection, the MFA’s, and finally, after 10,000 (ten thousand) hours of painstaking reconstruction and conservation (you wouldn’t believe the mess the grave robbers left), the MFA is justifiably proud of this exhibition.

The exhibition space is beautifully presented, and I highly recommend reading the fabulous explanations on the walls: you will miss the amazingness of what’s in it if you don’t (because this is a much more nuanced presentation of ye olde Egyptionality than say, Tut’s ever was).

Oh, so THAT's what it means!

The MFA has two audio tours, one designed especially for kids. The interactive website is great, and there’s lots of things to buy at the MFA shop. The museum is even including Middle Eastern fare to its menus at Bravo and Galleria Cafe. Falafel for everyone!

The Secrets of Tomb 10A: Egypt 2000 BC

Now through May 16, 2010 in the Gund Gallery.

Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

Admission prices include this exhibition and the MFA collections, plus a repeat visit within ten days.

RainyDayMagazine has a great review of the exhibition, which you can read here.

We were invited to the Preview Reception last night, and it was awesome. Ten thousand square feet of Harry’s world, with props and costumes from the films, set up in different stations. It’s designed so that you feel like you are at Hogwarts; everybody is represented and all the movies are referenced (those chess pieces from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone are HUGE).

They have Harry and Ron’s room.

They have Death Eaters.

They have Kreatur and Oliver Wood’s Quidditch robe (honestly, am I the only one who thought that Oliver Wood was way cuter than Cedric Diggory?).

They have tons (22 tractor trailers) of stuff. And when you are in the exhibit you are in Harry Potter’s world. Ever wanted to get up close and personal to the candy display at Honeydukes? How do Harry’s and Valdemort’s wands compare? Wouldn’t you just like to look into Dobby’s big-eyed face and thank him for his loyalty to Harry? Is a dementor really that scary? (I can answer that: Yes. Yes it is.)

And let me just say, Gilderoy Lockhart had excellent taste in clothing, and you can see a set of his entire works, including everyone’s favorite, Magical Me.

They have Dolores Umbridge’s pinky pinky pink office, complete with that nasty quill Harry was made to use when he had his “I must not tell lies” detention.

There are many things to see and do. Pull up your own mandrake root. Try your hand at getting the quaffle through the quiditch hoops (sans broom, I’m afraid).

The final setting is Hogwart’s Great Hall, set up for the Yule Ball, complete with floating candles, Triwizard Tournament Cup, and chocolate desserts. And if you ever wanted to feel sorry, and I mean totally and utterly sorry, for Ron Weasley, just take a look at the actual robe he wore for the Ball, displayed next to Harry’s very handsome dress robes. Hermoine’s lilac evening gown is even more lovely in person.

The gift shop is like a mini Diagon Alley; you can pick out your very own wand at Olivander’s, choose some writing paper at Flourish & Blots, and even pick out a robe (or t-shirt) at Madam Malkin’s.

The audio tracks that you can listen to are great. I highly recommend picking up a device on the way in. It took us an hour to get through it, because we listened to every single bit. I think some kids took longer–I mean, who wouldn’t want to sit in Hagrid’s chair?

The exhibit will be in Boson until February 1, 2010. Combined museum and exhibition tickets are $26/Adults, $24/60+, $23/3-11, and $5/MOS.

If you or your little ones are fans of Harry Potter, it is so, so worth it.

You can read RainyDayMagazine’s review here.