The kindness of strangers: Mr. Cornflower in Chicago

     My schedule gave me a spare hour and a half between meetings and I decided to go to one of the world's great art galleries, the Art Institute of Chicago. But I got held up and then losing my sense of direction completely ended up walking all the way round the block (the entrance I wanted to use is closed because there's a lot of building work going on), so I'm rushing up the front steps with barely twenty-five minutes left.

I buy my ticket and present it to the lady in uniform. With so little time I know exactly what I want to see: "Could you tell me where the Mary Cassatts are please?" She looks at me and at the bag I'm carrying. We both look at the cloakroom where there is a queue of people. She says quietly "You'd better leave that behind my desk and come through." It turns out that what I want is across the far side of the building, and getting there (partly because of the building work) involves several tricky turns and changes of level. But her instructions are clear and five minutes later I am standing in front of the painting I particularly want to see.

 

 

I know there is something sentimental about this and I don't care. In a foreign country, four thousand miles away from our own children, who are all well past the stage of needing to be bathed, I look at this image of love and innocence until it begins to blur a little. The gallery is closing, and more slowly now I retrace my steps. I pick up my bag from the lady at the gate, and thank her, but my throat feels tight and the voice unusually high-pitched. I go out into the Chicago sunshine, light-headed with a sense of release.

Comments

[Lisa W]

Such an intimate image of mother and child. I could also feel my throat tightening as I looked at this picture and read your post today. Thank you for sharing it, Mr.C.

[peri]

What a lovely post. I've stood before the Cassatts at the Art Institute of Chicago many times, but saw this one anew, with you, with fresh eyes. Thanks!

[Angela Young]

This is an absolutely beautiful post ... it reads like the beginning (or part) of a short story.

[Mrs C]

What an amazingly touching piece of art. Thank you for sharing with us.

[Claire]

I love domestic paintings and your piece to accompany it captures your mood so well. When you said you might post on the trip I was thinking more travelogue. What a lovely surprise to get that instead. Thank you.

[Your mother-in-law !]

Gareth - I've just read your comment on Karen's post of yesterday! What a lovely priority to fulfil, with all the sentiment behind it, so far away from home. I've always known my precious grandchildren are in safe hands! Granny.

[Deirdre]

My immediate reaction: how wonderful! Thank you.

[Fiberjoy]

Exquisite.

[Nan]

I loved your writing. I am actually reading now a book about her and this painting is on the cover. I'm also hoping to go to an exhibit of her work this summer. Wonderful paintings of domestic life.