It may be well into the glorious, green, sunny season of spring – at least for those of you not stuck in the interminably cloudy, cold weather sinkhole that is Seattle these days – but that doesn’t mean everyone’s releasing bright, cheery indie-pop records about bunnies and dancing and dancing bunnies and dancing with bunnies. There are still many musicians out there crafting dark, disturbing works and putting them out whenever they damn well feel like it. If you do pick up any of these albums, you’ll probably want to wait until nightfall to put them on the old hi-fi.
My introduction to Marc Chagall’s dreamlike figures, at least outside of an art history book, was in 1998, during a trip to France. But the first time I saw Marc Chagall’s America Windows was in the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (it is, of course, the backdrop for Ferris and Sloane’s kiss at the Art Institute of Chicago). Beloved in both French museums and opera houses and to American moviegoers, Chagall is probably best known for reinventing the stained glass window.
When I moved to Chicago in 2005, America Windows was in the process of being deinstalled for the Art Institute’s expansion, so I didn’t get to see it in person until it was unveiled again last fall. I’ve since seen it many times in the Art Institute’s Modern Wing, where it’s exhibited near smaller versions of public art in Chicago, including Calder’s Flamingo and an unnamed Picasso sculpture. (Incidentally, the irony is palpable: an exhibit on public art in a space available to those who can pay nearly $20 for admission.)
Paul M Davis