On l’amicizia and the National Gallery of Art

A few weeks ago while in Washington, DC, I had the good fortune to see the National Gallery of Art with a close friend who I hadn’t seen in person for seven years. The experience reminded me of the importance of friendship, how having close relationships isn’t defined by space and time, and that art from many different eras and cultures tries to get us to tap into that humanness that connects us to others. It was also a lesson in how you may end up in surprising places with people you expect, or in ordinary, regular places with people you never anticipated meeting.

David with the Head of Goliath (c. 1450/1455) by Andrea del Castagno

Getting to walk through the art museum with my friend was a full circle moment, especially since that is something we did together in Chicago about 8 years ago, long before we had any idea what our lives or careers would look like. The day hit home that in some ways, the people that matter in our lives are constant, living paintings in our lives. We see them change, grow, and become more amazing than we ever thought possible; more frankly, we see them age and mature. (Although, as a counterpoint, I have to say my friend really did look like she hadn’t aged in the 7 years since I last saw her!) Friends reflect ourselves in a way that impersonal art can’t and their faces are more familiar than the strangers on the expensive walls of an art gallery. Sure, our friends don’t open up our world to allegory or metaphor, but they do embody who we were years or months or days ago when we first met, and who we hoped to be, and how we imagined our friendship could span the (short or long) distance in space and time.

II. Her Appeal to the Dauphin (Joan of Arc series; 1906) by Louis Maurice Boutet de Monvel

Friendship shows us the way more than we give it credit for. And real friends, genuine friends, are rare, as the adage goes. Rarer, I would argue, than DaVinci paintings, Michelangelo statues, and Rubens portraits added up across the world. Friendship reminds us of the promise we had in the past, what we’ve realized in the present, and humbly and more importantly, humorously – steers us towards better decisions. Or at least helps us make fun of our funny slip ups!

Titian's ceiling at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC

Art reminds us of the same things…faded smile lines in images of those enduring immense suffering; chips in paintings that were once pristine and unblemished; marble Roman faces which to us are now pale, but were once in radiant color. The formal and informal art around us also reflects the phases and changes we all go through. The Joan of Arc Series by Louis Maurice Boutet de Monvel portrayed St. Joan of Arc as young, mature, strong and vulnerable. The sunlight dripping from Titian’s ceiling mirrored the noontime light streaming into the museum. Dorothea Lange’s photographs reflect the hardship of the Great Depression and made me wonder what photography from the COVID-19 pandemic captured. How many of those expressions were also held in the US, UK, Italy, and around the world?

My friend also taught me that you should pay just as much attention to the frame as you do to the painting or portrait it was carefully selected for. This seems like a good life lesson too: the frame you put around your life and its opportunities shapes and defines them. And your frame of reference or frame of mind may just entirely transform the environment you create for yourself and others.

The Dutch art section at the National Gallery of Art