NYC: my first time at the Guggenheim
I'm a big Jim Carrey fan.
What does that have to do with the Guggenheim? One might ask. Oh well, the story goes back to 2011 when the family comedy Mr. Popper's Penguins hit the screen. Remember that scene where the penguins were happily and merrily sliding through the halls of the Guggenheim? Every time I watched that movie, I couldn't help but wonder—when will I finally step through those doors myself?
June 2024. I'm visiting NYC to speak at a conference at the University of New York. With my packed schedule, I set aside one whole day just for the Guggenheim.
And here it is—the legendary building, white and swirly like a cupcake—standing right in front of me. A huge smile spread across my face. Barely breathing from excitement, I stepped inside.
"Hey, miss!" I heard a voice. It was a guard reminding me to show my bag.
"Sorry, it's my first time here, and I’m just too excited," I said.
The guard smiled and wished me a great visit. And oh, I did enjoy every second of it.
Huge neon letters ran across the museum’s famous six ramps of the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed rotunda. It was Jenny Holzer: Light Line—the site-specific installation that was on view from May 17 to September 29, 2024. Jenny Holzer: Light Line presented a new manifestation of her iconic LED sign, bringing the building to life with her pioneering use of the written word.
I literally stood there for about 15 mins reading every word of it. The installation transformed the building with a display of scrolling texts, featuring selections from her iconic series, such as “Truisms” and “Inflammatory Essays”. It was a reimagination of Jenny Holzer’s landmark 1989 installation at the Guggenheim.
The very rotunda I had seen in movies and photos was now illuminated by Jenny Holzer’s (b. 1950, Gallipolis, Ohio) phrases, spiraling across an LED display. Holzer’s installation felt deeply rooted in the present moment. Slogans like “Because there is no god, someone must take responsibility for men” and “I see you, I watch you, I scan you” spoke to themes of war and surveillance, power and existentialism, abuse and refuge.
Here I am, a happy goose—smiling not because Holzer’s message didn’t leave an impression, but simply because I was thrilled to be seeing it all. A feeling almost childlike.
Jenny Holzer: Light Line. Photo: mine
I started making my way up the rotunda, eager to see more art.
The most unforgettable moment was encountering the Thannhauser Collection—an ongoing exhibition of Impressionist, Post-Impressionist, and modern French masterpieces from the Guggenheim’s collection, featuring works by Degas, Manet, Van Gogh, and more.
It’s an interesting feeling—one I always experience when seeing the works of the world’s greatest artists in different corners of the globe. I’ve seen Van Gogh in Amsterdam and London, Degas in Boston and Paris. And now, I stood before the Thannhauser Collection, a remarkable bequest of late 19th- and early 20th-century art, generously donated by Justin K. and Hilde Thannhauser to the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation in New York.
These essential works mark the culmination of the Thannhauser family’s tireless dedication to promoting progressive art throughout their distinguished careers as dealers and collectors across Germany, Switzerland, France, and the United States.
Place Ventimille by Édouard Vuillard, 1908-1910. Photo: mine
The stunning diptych Place Vintimille by Édouard Vuillard was just one of the many masterpieces that took my breath away when seeing it in person. The delicate interplay of color and texture, the almost dreamlike atmosphere—it felt as if I had stepped into a fleeting moment of Parisian life, frozen in time.
I see these brushstrokes, and I think they are unmistakably the hallmark of Impressionists and Post-Impressionists across Europe—loose yet deliberate, capturing light, movement, and atmosphere in a way that feels both spontaneous and deeply considered. Just like many Impressionists of his era, Vuillard studied at the Académie Julian. And his style is very Académie Julian.
After breaking with his family’s military tradition in 1885, Édouard Vuillard attended the Académie Julian and, in 1888, was admitted to the École des Beaux-Arts. By the way, he studied there under Jean-Léon Gérôme, but soon left because he disliked the conservative approach.
A major Post-Impressionist in the 1890s, he also played a significant role in the renewal of decorative art before and after 1900. His brushwork, which i define Académie Julian are so soft yet precise, made the scene feel intimate, as if I were peering through a window into another era. Standing before it, I felt a quiet, almost meditative awe, like I was indeed looking through the windows in some Paris apartment in the rise of the 19 century.
_____________________________
I spent about three whole hours in the Guggenheim. I only left because I got hungry. This blog post can’t capture everything I saw, but here I’ve highlighted my biggest impressions.
"So, how was it?" asked the guard as I was leaving.
"Oh, it was AMAZING," I replied. "I’ll need to revisit soon."
