Handmade objects have their own magic, a quality given to them the the hands of the maker. I'm not talking about magic in a fantastical sense but magic in the sense that these objects have the ability to cross the boundaries of time, they have the power to take you back.
I haven't visited the Carnegie Museum of Art in years... years! I can't remember the last time I was there.
But I visited a couple days ago with a friend.
In the art galleries, I found myself wanting to touch the paintings. Some of them had a texture... globs of paint left behind either by accident or design, a texture. I wanted to touch those paintings! Reach out my hand and feel the paint... as if by some transference, I'd be able to feel the brush upon the canvas, the hand upon the brush, the mind connected to the hand. It was all I could do to stop myself!
And the same thing happened in the hall of decorative arts and design... especially with the furniture of inlaid wood. Some of those objects have at one time or another been in people's homes before they found their way into the museum. I wanted to hear the stories that these pieces of furniture had to tell... Why is your door cracked? It was a cold winter that year... I lived near the window, you see, drafty. Or are you talked about this crack? Lovers' quarrel, the damage was too extensive to be repaired.
What have these objects witnessed? What sorrows or joys have they been a part of? They're in museums because they're examples of craft that are meant to be preserved, used as examples to teach future generations about the art and culture of the past. But I found myself preoccupied something much more interesting... the human element.
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