An application for a non-existent job,or, Dear Tom Campbell

Dear Thomas P. Campbell, Emily Rafferty and readers of Art Darts,

This is an application for a position that does not exist from someone who wishes to have it in fantasy, only.
   I want to be writer-in-residence at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. After all, the best way to see art is to live with it. There are other reasons, also.
   When I was recently in New York from London for five days and overwhelmed by all I wanted to see in the museum, could not and--when it comes to special exhibitions like the Roof Garden--now never will.  I did see the Charles James show--the best fashion exhibition I've ever seen. Fantastical gowns were a treat but what made me visit three times in my short stay were the video screens with deconstructions of the patterns, the way the patterns were cut and then the reconstruction; rebuilding, of these architectural monuments to gorgeous and luxury.

Charles James Clover Leaf ball gown

Then there was Lost Kingdoms. (About which I have written for ASR, Anne Summers Reports. It should be up on line next week.I'll tweet.) Curator John Guy's ambitious, revelatory survey of the early religious art of the firth to ninth century kingdoms that later become the nation-states of Southeast Asia. There was far too much to take in during my two visits, one of which included the curator's gallery tour. A real art historical adventure story with so much new and unfamiliar that it requires time to take hold in these eyes and this brain. And I kept wanting to see these examples of first millennium Hindu and Buddhist Indian influences sculpture alongside what had already been created in India and the Buddhist sculpture of China of the same era. Lost Kingdoms is an amazing feat--it cost a lot of money; required exceptional loans. The show I imagined would have required removal of a floor of the permanent collection and a hefty benefaction from Bill Gates or equivalent.

Khin Ba Relic Chamber Cover  6th Century from what is now Myanmar.

A month at the Met would give me time to get a grip on these two shows and then there is so much more.
The Savoy Hotel has a writer- in- residence. But I would not demand room service. I'd have a picnic basket for dinner. I am a well trained litter picker upper. Or maybe the mail room would accept Pret deliveries. And if I got cabin fever--some cabin--I could take a bike ride through Central Park. (I feel sure the Met would let me keep my bicycle in the underground parking lot at the back.) It would be good to see the Temple of Dendur from outside as well as from my sleeping bag, assuming I'd be allowed a night camping in its shadow. Truth is I'd rather camp at the feet of Sekhmet but she, is nearby.
    It happens that much as I like dreaming, I am also practical, even often realistic. If this job did exist, I would not be at the top of the list of those asked to fill it. But as I already said I would have to refuse even if asked. The wrinkle, for me, is this: I would not want to feel obliged to produce a single word for publication or perusal. Seeing and drifting are what I want to do. Spending an hour with Tiepolo (either father or son) and then heading for China or vice versa.  But productivity is the measure applied by others and that I could not--and would not want to--guarantee. Still, by moving in, if only in my imagination while writing this job application, I keep thinking of new works of art I'd like to go to sleep near and others I'd like to see first thing when I wake up in the morning. In my eyes I begin to see some of the so- big collection in a new way. I recommend it. And this way, you avoid the crowds.