Art in Europe: Why Do We All Want to See the Mona Lisa?

The most popular woman in the world. A crowd viewing the Mona Lisa. Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

Lee pointed me to an article today about overcrowding at the Louvre and other European museums. According to the article, museums across Europe are feeling the strain from too many visitors, and in some cases they are worried that artworks will be damaged.

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/07/29/arts/design/european-museums-straining-under-weight-of-popularity.html?_r=0

Images of visitors clamoring to get their selfie with (or even just their shot of) "The Mona Lisa" seem ridiculous from a distance. Why would you subject yourself to such a crush simply to get a bad photo of a painting that is endlessly reproduced? I mean, here it is again:

"The Mona Lisa" isn't a painting; it's the painting.

It's a great picture, no doubt. I am not one of those, like my husband, who feels it is overrated. While I do prefer much of Da Vinci's other work, I am not immune to the mysterious smile and knowing eyes, the hazy sfumato effect, and the cultural weight which comes with being a classic. In a way, "The Mona Lisa" is so classic, that it has become a sort of cultural template for "painting" from which all other paintings depart. 

Therefore, while at first glance the museum crowds seemed ridiculous, I decided to ask myself a few questions:

1. When I go to Paris, will I want to see "The Mona Lisa"? - Yes. 

The answer came to me, even as I tried to be cooler than that, the way I wish I was too cool to want to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

2. If I find myself in front of "The Mona Lisa" will I then want to take a picture of it? - Probably. 

Even though I realize that it will be a bad picture which will probably end up being deleted, and I'd do better to take pictures of the straining crowds, since they will be more representative of my actual experience, I have a feeling that a weird groupthink may take over in the moment and I will feel compelled to do what it is that you do when you're at the Louvre.

 This instinct to "collect" experiences is strong in most people. People add the seven wonders of the world to their bucket lists even if they have no idea why they became wonders. People who couldn't care less about Egyptian history nevertheless take a photo by the Great Pyramid. People crowd into the White House, Congress, and Jefferson's home at Monticello who couldn't tell you accurately what the Bill of Rights consists of. (For this last, perhaps, they are blameless, since I doubt some of our Congressional representatives could do any better.) At any rate, people collect, and I wonder how many of the people in these "Mona Lisa" queues would disappear if only the art lovers, the Da Vinci lovers, and the people who know what "sfumato" means remained. It's hard to say, however, even though I care about Da Vinci and art, whether I will visit "The Mona Lisa" for the right reasons either. I can see perfectly well that I won't be able to get any kind of decent view of the painting at the Louvre. I can see that there's no chance of quietly contemplating the work. For that, I'd do better to buy a poster and hang it on my wall. So even though I care about art, are my motives for visiting any better? I will be there just to share the same air as the famous painted lady. I'll be there to say that I was there.

There's not necessarily anything wrong with collecting experiences, either. In a sense these collections of experiences add up to a collective sense of belonging to the human race. By appreciating "The Mona Lisa", taking a picture at the Great Pyramid, visiting the White House or Monticello, we reconfirm with each other our values - what we consider beautiful, worth protecting, significant. The crowds to see "The Mona Lisa" also, doubtless, help to fund the preservation of countless lesser-known art masterpieces which may then be protected for years to come. Moreover, it is possible to take things too far the other direction and refuse to see even places which might be very enjoyable for fear of being too conventional. I had an ex-boyfriend, for example, who would purposely travel to the most obscure places possible, simply for the pleasure of being original. 

Still it is funny how we have settled upon this one great portrait and these few great museums as the pilgrimages to make. Perhaps if we could spread out more - give our love to more diverse works of art, and take part of our time to explore some lesser-known locations - these European museums wouldn't be in such a jam. 

I will, then, see "The Mona Lisa," though I will try to resist the urge to take a picture. I will also ascend to the top of the Eiffel Tower - possibly even while wearing some sort of scarf and fancying myself very Parisian. But I will also make a point to visit some lesser-known art treasures.

One I have my eye on is the Gustave Moreau Museum. http://www.musee-moreau.fr/ Moreau is a Symbolist painter I have long admired, and a visit to his house/museum is included with the Paris Museum Pass. Below is a video, featuring, strangely enough, of one of my favorite screenwriters, Julie Delpy,  http://jensroadtoeurope.blogspot.kr/2014/07/movies-about-or-around-europe-2-days-in.html, giving a little tour of the museum. The light in the video is not so great, so I'll also include an image below the video. 

Oedipus and the Sphinx, Gustave Moreau

Finally, I'd like to include one more from Da Vinci, also in the Louvre. I hope that the crowd around this painting is not so intense, and that I might, after all, get a chance to gaze deep into a work by Da Vinci in person. 

The Virgin of the Rocks, Leonardo Da Vinci

How about you? Would you want to see "The Mona Lisa"? Does an attraction's popularity increase or decrease your desire to see it? Share in the comments.