Food and art are both sensual pleasures, easily appreciated by all and capable of endless refinement. I remember first seeing the work of Wayne Thiebaud in a retrospective as a high school student in California. The vibrant colors and symmetrical rows of pies spoke of joyous pleasures and platonic order. Apollo and Dionysus meeting at a diner for a slice of Boston Creme or Lemon Meringue.
Tonight I saw the movie Julie and Julia, and completely recommend taking the plunge (and yes, I am a devoted Netflix viewer). I’ve had an interest in cooking for years, immensely enjoyed the PBS show in 1999 featuring Julia Child and Jacques Pepin. I’ve also read the blog and later the book of The Julie/Julia Project. The movie was faithful to the spirit of all of the above.
Of course, my first introduction to the delight of cooking was at home. My mother is an amazing cook and we grew up eating delicious meals. If I was looking for an equivalent in the arts it would be the exhibition of Chardin works at the Met in 2000.
At MOMA my favorites are the Claes Oldenburg sculptures. The double hamburger and pastry case pieces are incredible, they’re practically alive they have so much energy compressed into their form and surface paint.
Now I’m hungry.
