Visiting the Art Museum
On a school trip from suburban New Jersey when I was in second grade, I could take on the role of Claudia, admiring the works of art on display but also wondering: who made this? Why? How did it come to be here? These questions helped me realize from a young age the enormous potential of the experience of a work of art—to fascinate personally but also to open up a window onto the past. All of this activated by the curiosity to know more about what is staring you in the face.
My family always visited art museums when I was a child. I’m not quite sure why, as we never talked about the art, and I wondered, in secret, what exactly we were supposed to be doing there. When I was about eight years old, I read a book that answered that question: <em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler</em> by E. L. Konigsburg. It is the story of two children—a brother and a sister—who run away from home to solve the mystery of a sculpture: was it a long-lost work by Michelangelo? They hide in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, borrowing coins from the fountain to buy food, sleeping in a magnificent bed in a period room, and blending in with school groups. More importantly, the sister Claudia is entranced by the Renaissance sculpture of an angel then on display at the museum, and she is determined to get to the bottom of the question of authorship: is it really a Michelangelo? And, if so, how did it end up in the museum?<br /><br />On a school trip from suburban New Jersey when I was in second grade, I could take on the role of Claudia, admiring the works of art on display but also wondering: who made this? Why? How did it come to be here? These questions helped me realize from a young age the enormous potential of the experience of a work of art—to fascinate personally but also to open up a window onto the past. All of this activated by the curiosity to know more about what is staring you in the face.
E. L. Konigsburg
<em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler</em> by E. L. Konigsburg
1984
<a href="https://mornaoneill.wordpress.com/">Morna O’Neill</a>, age 41, art history professor
visiting-the-art-museum
Haunted by Homer’s Sirens
This particular poem helped me to think about a challenge that I was facing in a different way, and helped me try to bring some sense to it. It was a catalyst to help me focus on the present and the “now,” and the worries that come with all of the things that you can’t control, in the future and the past, need to be chased out.
<p>About seven months ago, our son was in a tragic ski accident, and was in a coma for close to a month. And during that really painful time, we didn’t know what was going to happen. Was he ever going to wake up? Was he not going to wake up?</p>
<p>I, myself, couldn’t sleep and I was haunted all the time by thoughts of what might happen to him in the future, and how did this happen, and thinking about the past. And I remember thinking in one of those late-night moments about “The Odyssey” and about the description of the sirens on the banks. Of Odysseus asking to be tied to the mast, and having beeswax in his sailors’ ears, and realizing I had these kind of spirits that were haunting me.</p>
<p>In that context, I remember thinking very directly, “I know what those sirens are. I know what that’s about.” I didn’t know before then what—at least for me—that poem was saying. And at that moment, I realized the sirens were really from the future and from the past, and that in dealing with this situation with our son—the only way to deal with this—was by staying very much in the present.</p>
Homer
The Odyssey
Kevin Guthrie, founder/president, ITHAKA
kevin-guthrie-homers-sirens
<em>Hamilton</em> and the Performance of Poetry
<p>Thomas Scherer describes two related encounters which speak to the power of hearing poetry performed aloud. The first is an explanatory talk and poetry reading by the great literary scholar M. H. Abrams at the National Humanities Center; the second is hearing Lin-Manuel Miranda discuss his award-winning rap musical, <em>Hamilton</em>.</p>
<p>Across generations, cultural divides, venues, and artistic voices, the power of lyric poetry to capture and convey powerful feeling is undeniable. And when poetry is performed and embodied, “brought to life” if you will, its capacity to create change is palpable.</p>
M. H. Abrams, Lin-Manuel Miranda
Lin-Manuel Miranda's musical <em>Hamilton</em>; M.H. Abrams' <em>The Mirror and the Lamp</em>
Thomas Scherer, Consultant, Spencer Capital Holdings
thomas-scherer-abrams-hamilton-poetry
“I was dragged, kicking and screaming, to a van Gogh exhibition”
I get chills thinking about it even now, because to have this extraordinary storyteller explaining to you what was going on at that point in van Gogh’s life—what this meant to him, what it should mean to us—but still leaving the whole painting open to individual interpretation, it was really something that, to me, was quite profound.
In what I believe was the latter part of the 1980s, I was dragged, kicking and screaming, to a van Gogh exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum. And for the first time in my life, I wore one of those machines around my neck, where you listen to headphones and you hear somebody describe what it is you’re going to see. It was a brand-new experience.
The narrator was the then-director of the Metropolitan Museum, Philippe de Montebello, and at the introductory part of the exhibit, I was really struck by the quality of what he was saying. It was so well written that it really bordered on being fine literature.... As we went from room to room, his storytelling, and the visual impact of my seeing these extraordinary paintings by this extraordinary, troubled person, made an impact on me that I still think about, probably, every month.
There was a new richness in what I saw, but also a level of insight into what van Gogh had done that magnified to a great degree the impact that it had on me. Looking back on it, coming at a part of my life where I had been underground for a long time, as a law student, and then as a young lawyer, it pulled me back into the knowledge that there was this greater, more interesting world out there; one to which I owed a lot more attention. From then on, I dedicated myself to making sure that I was going to live a life that was more rich.
I get chills thinking about it even now, because to have this extraordinary storyteller explaining to you what was going on at that point in van Gogh’s life—what this meant to him, what it should mean to us—but still leaving the whole painting open to individual interpretation, it was really something that, to me, was quite profound.
Vincent van Gogh
An exhibit of Vincent van Gogh's paintings
C. Allen Parker, General Counsel, Wells Fargo & Company
allen-parker-van-gogh
The Berlin Philharmonic Plays Mahler
David Denby discusses hearing Herbert von Karajan conducting a performance of Mahler’s 9th Symphony—a moment which made him realize the power of music as a universal language.
The Berlin Philharmonic's performance of Symphony No. 9 by Gustav Mahler
David Denby, author, journalist, film critic
david-denby-berlin-philharmonic-plays-mahler
The Streets of New York Are Like a Library
In this video submission, artist Carter Thompson discusses how a recent exhibit on the Harlem Renaissance revealed some of the fascinating history of the century-old building in which he lives and helped him feel a connection across the decades with those who lived in the neighborhood before him.
Thompson describes how his sensibilities as an artist are informed by the stories of those who have walked the same streets, or seen the angle of the light in much the same way. He also notes how the humanities help us to bridge differences wrought by time and vastly different life experiences, and to find the common threads of our shared humanity.
An art exhibition on the Harlem Renaissance
Carter Thompson, artist and designer
new-york-is-like-a-library
Fathers and Sons
In this video, Scott Gartlan discusses his reaction to seeing Arthur Miller’s 1947 play <em>All My Sons </em>and seeing deep connections between the play’s narrative and his own life story. He goes on to reflect on the power of storytelling to bridge generations and personal circumstances.<br /><br />Witnessing the performance of Miller’s play was a “flashbulb moment” that deepened Gartlan’s appreciation of “what art can do in representing life.”
A performance of Arthur Miller's play <em>All My Sons</em>
Scott Gartlan, Executive Director, Charlotte Teachers Institute
fathers-sons
Finding “the Truth” in Music
Reflecting on the interview with William, I realized that he was describing the very learning experience my students were having as they created their documentary. By investigating the relationship between individuals and the music that shaped their lives, the students were in fact developing deeper understandings about the history of neighborhoods, their city, and American society—and seeing connections across time and place. Like William, their interest in music led them to think like historians. That day reaffirmed my commitment to interdisciplinary learning and, specifically, to using music and art wherever possible to help students make meaningful connections in my classroom.
In June 2017, I found myself in a cramped, sweltering apartment in New York’s East Village. I was there with three high-school students to interview William Millan, founder of the seminal 1970s Latin band, Saoco. The students were working on a documentary film about the history of musical communities in New York City. After playing several Saoco albums for us, William described how his interest in the roots of Latin music led him on an intellectual journey to understand the cultural history of the Caribbean, Europe, and Africa. Then he said something profound:
“I wasn’t a very good history and geography student when I was in school… it wasn’t until I really got into the music that I realized it’s not that I don’t like history and geography—I really love history and geography. It was the information they were giving me in school that I couldn’t relate to because it had nothing to do with what I was living. If you go into the music, and you check out the artists’ lives, that’s going to give you a truer picture of history; and in their body of work you’re going to see what the truth is.”
In 20 years of teaching, I have never heard a better articulation of music’s power to engage students in the study of history and culture.
Reflecting on the interview with William, I realized that he was describing the very learning experience my students were having as they created their documentary. By investigating the relationship between individuals and the music that shaped their lives, the students were in fact developing deeper understandings about the history of neighborhoods, their city, and American society—and seeing connections across time and place. Like William, their interest in music led them to think like historians. That day reaffirmed my commitment to interdisciplinary learning and, specifically, to using music and art wherever possible to help students make meaningful connections in my classroom.
Interview with William Millan, musician and founder of the band, Saoco
June 2017
<a href="http://nationalhumanitiescenter.org/humanities-in-class-guide-thinking-learning-in-humanities/">Ben Wides</a>, age 46, social studies teacher, East Side Community High School, New York City
finding-truth-in-music
9/11 Shaped My Career
I continued as an education major and eventually graduated in 2007 with my degree. By the time I graduated, I knew that loved teaching. I discovered during my different experiences in the classroom in college that this was my calling. 9/11 taught me that service is important, but it also taught me that knowledge is power and knowing about the world outside of my little bubble is extremely important. I try to do this with my students in my classes everyday. I want them to be educated citizens who can see the many sides of an issue and are curious about the world they live in.
I was a brand new college freshman getting ready to attend my Political Science class that started at 8:45am on September 11, 2001. I heard the news on the radio when I first woke up and I thought it wasn't real. I turned on the TV and still couldn't believe it was real. I didn't know what else to do except go to class and so I did. My professor came in the room sobbing and she told us all to go home and be with our families. We all walked out of the lecture hall, scattering across the green, going our different directions. I began walking to my car but my mind was focused on one thing, I wanted to go volunteer for military service. My dad had served during Vietnam and I felt like it was my duty. So I called my dad and told him my plan and he said to me (in probably the first adult conversation we would have), "You don't need to serve in the military because I served for you. If you really want to make a difference in this world, start thinking about how you can give back to your community through your career or volunteer service." At that point, I was a communications major and I had aspirations of being a sport journalist. I stuck it out for another year in the major, but what my dad had said to me on that day kept coming back around. At the end of my freshman year, I switched my major to history with a secondary education emphasis. I loved history, that I knew, did I love teaching? I did not know, but I knew this would be a chance to service my community and country.
I continued as an education major and eventually graduated in 2007 with my degree. By the time I graduated, I knew that loved teaching. I discovered during my different experiences in the classroom in college that this was my calling. 9/11 taught me that service is important, but it also taught me that knowledge is power and knowing about the world outside of my little bubble is extremely important. I try to do this with my students in my classes everyday. I want them to be educated citizens who can see the many sides of an issue and are curious about the world they live in.
9/11/2001
<a href="http://nationalhumanitiescenter.org/education-programs/teacher-advisory-council-2017-2018/">Carly Hill</a>, 34, teacher
9-11-shaped-my-career
“You don’t just run, you run to some place wonderful.”
<em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler</em> turned Deborah Ross’s world upside down. Kongisberg’s book, which just celebrated its 50th anniversary, chronicles the adventures of Claudia and her brother, who run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The book kindled Ross’s imagination so much that when she visited the museum with her parents, she retraced the protagonist’s steps in search of the Egyptian cat, the fountain, and Michelangelo’s sculpture.
<em>From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler</em> by E.L. Konigsburg
Deborah Ross, U.S. Representative for North Carolina's 2nd District
deborah-ross-someplace-wonderful
Classical Music Saved My Life
My Humanities Moment happened when I realized that Art and Music actually saved my life when I needed it. I remember walking in New York City at night. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I was so depressed about how New York City is changing. I didn't see the Old New York anymore. All I see is glass building and ads everywhere.
I reached Central Park at Sunset. I saw a man playing the violin. The sound of the violin reached my soul and spirit. I had my camera at the time and used it to record the music. I stood there for hours listening to music. When the music stopped, I thanked him for everything. I was glad to hear something different and at the same time classic. I learned to cherish everything because things are changing.
Tara Murray
classical-music-saved-my-life