Once in a while, I like to go back to museums, I know. They change, I change, times change and like with an old friend you have not seen in a while, you just feel good to have them around you again.
Right now, I am in New York, starting to shoot on Saturday. I am staying with an old friend, and I will take the chance to see some exhibitions, like the Tim Burton one in the MoMA or Tino Sehgal in the who is “Facing the Void” in the Guggenheim.
When my father was in town we went back to the Pinakothek der Moderne. It is very tempting on Sundays, coz entrance fee is only one Euro all day. Not much to do on rainy winter Sundays anyway and so you dive in to the large pristine white halls with their high walls.
Funny how images affect you differently depending on you coming form a piercing bright sparkly summer day at the river banks in to the cool interior or if you are creeping out from underneath a thick warm winter blanket, sometimes still stiff form a long cold winters night.
On this drab gloomy winter Sunday with clouds dark and gray heavy hanging almost touching this small cities houses roof-tops, on this day, Franz Marc and August Macke are brighter than ever and seem to be shining, lighting, glowing in to my eyes and brain and heart. I can not remember those images this sunny and this bright. Maybe someone painted with fresh paint over them?
It feels, even with tha ability of our modern times, the options to pick just any colour on a screen or in a grading, we will be never able to create what they created.
There is an image of Ernst Kirchner. It looks so sad here on the screen.
I had the postcard for years and see it now first time for real. You should go have a look at the radiating, vibrant reds. When you ever will be able to see it for real, you will smell the circus and hear the people’s breath.