Vermeer found a life’s work in the corner of a room. – Irwin Greenberg
Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time. – Thomas Merton
Back in October, Husband took me on a very special day date. We went out on a whim, not quite sure how the adventure would play out. A few weeks before, I had seen a flier posted in a train station that immediately caught my eye. I knew right away I had to be there, to see this event in real life. The flier held the image of a very famous painting – a woman in yellow, by a window, careful pouring milk into a bowl. She’s attentive to her work, making sure not to spill a drop.
As an art history major, I immediately recognized this work by one of my favorite artists. If my life had taken a different path, I may have dedicated more of my time to studying the time of this man’s life and work. I would place a bet that you have probably seen this artist’s work as well. The image on the flier was none other than The Milkmaid by Johannes Vermeer.
After I pointed out the flier to Husband, he promised we would make the trek to Tokyo to see the exhibit in person. Some internet searching led us to the Ueno Royal Art Museum. Somewhat unexpectedly, most of the information about the exhibit was in Japanese. I figured information about an exhibit of this admired artist would be available in English. Nope. So, we did the best we could with what we had, and then we set out on an adventure!
The museum, located in Ueno Park, is easy enough to find. Nestled in a complex with a zoo and other museums, the hardest part was finding the building we needed. Thankfully, the ticket window was clearly marked. The staff spoke a little English and we were able to successfully purchase tickets with minimal confusion. Tickets were 2,700 yen each and were purchased for a specific date and 90-minute time slot. Husband and I didn’t expect to be granted same day admission. So it was a fun surprise when we secured our tickets for only an hour later.
I’ve been to art museums before, but there were few high-profile exhibits that came to our area. When we got in line at 2:35 for our 3:00 entrance time, it was clear this would be a unique experience. Already the line to enter was halfway down the sidewalk. At first, I was in disbelief that this was our line. Ever so helpfully was a Japanese man holding a large sign that said, “End of Line.” We showed our tickets and he ushered us into a spot and stepped behind us. Ten minutes later, the sign and its holder had wound around the corner and further into the park area.
At the museum entrance, visitors are handed a headset, each programmed with different languages. There were lots of blue lanyards, indicating Japanese, and a few green ones, for English. Husband and I were able to listen to recordings at different parts of the exhibit, which began with an introduction to Dutch art.
The first room of the exhibit was an absolute madhouse. Everyone with a ticket for 3:00 was funneled into the museum at the same time. This created a huge backlog of people at the front. I’m so glad we didn’t wait until later to get in line, although that might have meant more people were given a chance to cycle through. One thing I’ve gotten better at living in Japan is giving up some of my personal space. There are people everywhere. Constantly. And this was no different. Being moved along by the force of other people was a bit of a surreal experience. I don’t expect I’ll ever get used to it, no matter how often it happens. Luckily, the following rooms thinned out some as people moved ahead and others hung back.
Moving through the exhibit brought us to rooms focusing on Dutch portraiture, still life, landscapes, and seascapes. Each room had an introduction on our headsets, and throughout the room, a few paintings would have comments. I could feel the anticipation growing in the room as we moved closer and closer to the main event.
The Vermeer room was the very last room of the exhibit. In this room, we rediscovered all the people we thought we’d lost at the beginning – standing and contemplating and generally not moving. This particular exhibit brought together 9 of Vermeer’s 35 surviving paintings, including his largest and earliest work entitled Christ in the House of Mary and Martha. It was breathtaking. As an art history student, I’m well versed in viewing art, although it was often in a classroom on a projector screen. To see these paintings I’d studied years ago in person was an entirely different thing. The intricate, delicate natural of Vermeer’s paintings seem effortless. It was a wonderful experience, and one I won’t soon forget. Unfortunately, we couldn’t take any pictures inside, so you’ll have to trust me.
Although the crowds were, well, crowds, it was an enjoyable experience overall. Most people were considerate, looking and moving on. Both Husband and I still reference one visitor that caught our eye. He was standing squarely in front of a painting, contemplating the image in an almost comical way. He’d start with a hand on his face, then move slightly so his chin rested in his hand. Occasionally he’d scratch his temple. He looked poised, as if waiting for someone to take his photo for Instagram.
As with most things in Japan, our adventure to see Vermeer was both everything I expected and nothing I expected. The pieces chosen for the show didn’t disappoint and seeing one of my favorite artists on display was awe-inspiring. I could’ve done without the crowds, but I’m not sure that’s ever going to be a thing while we’re here.
The Vermeer exhibit is on display at the Ueno Museum until Sunday, February 3, 2019. From there it moves to the Osaka City Museum of Fine Arts from February 16 until May 12, 2019. If you’re interested in visiting, you can find more information on both the Tokyo and Osaka exhibitions here.