National Museum of Modern Art

Of all my relationships, the ones I have with museums of modern art seem to be the most tumultuous.  Love and hate are adequate.  I feel a necessity to enter the galleries of modern art because to not do so would feel like turning my back on my own century or peers.  But beyond necessity I love to hate on the works and this usually evidence of love.  The National Museum of Modern Art in Paris did not completely help me validate my cynicism.  It displayed a toilet piece (hate) but also architectural plans by Le Corbusier (love).  The temporary Calder exhibit, 3-D forms out of bent wire, was pleasurable because it displayed two qualities I find necessary to my own definition of art worthy of fixture in a museum (Control and Something-I-Can-Not-Do).  Also, I have nothing but love for the rooftop dining area complete with long stem roses and a panoramic view of Paris.  It is a must-see if you ask me, if only so you don’t feel guilty later for deserting your time period – as is my best false excuse for visiting MOMAs.