Even on the busiest of days, there's a calming stillness to a museum like The Met. If you listen closely, lean in perhaps, you'll hear it — the current of energy pulsing through the rooms, a low hum of the whispers, secrets and stories each masterpiece bears. We walk amongst it, sometimes unaware of it, but I like to think it's always there. A thin veil that only history and fantasy can shroud us in. Each piece stands frozen in time, their gaze fixed as if to stare right at us. Or perhaps, it's fair to say they're staring through us, as if we are the intruders in a scene created long ago.
I suppose that's why I'm always drawn to visiting museums either first thing in the morning or right before closing time. A witching hour, if you will, where the stillness is more palpable, the crowds are no where in sight and the gossamer curtain separating fact and fiction is momentarily pulled back. Did the eyes in that painting follow me? Did the snakes on Medusa's head coil and hiss? Do I hear the rustle of a gown in an otherwise empty gallery room? Is my imagination running wild? Or is it not running wild enough?
I snapped these photos with my dear Marcus Richardson in the European sculpture hall at The Metropolitan Museum of Art early in the morning before their doors officially opened for the day. For my bard fans, we were inspired by the final scene of Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale, where a statue of the late Queen Hermione comes to life to dance among the living again.
And this week's playlist is what I like to think Queen Hermione might have listened to once she was resurrected.
Photography by Marcus Richardson