Madonna Had a Child

If I am to be perfectly honest, I enjoy art in various forms, but if I am to be perfectly honest, I don’t know a catnip about it. And there is no better way to develop art appreciation than in places like the Uffizi in Florence, the Louvre in Paris, or the Prado in Madrid. It seemed like every city that Kyle and I travelled to had a corresponding museum obligation.

At the beginning, we indulged in the multiple course art meal served on the plates of the Renaissance. Now, my art history knowledge during the Renaissance is entirely attributed to the Ninja Turtles. Thank you Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird for starting me on my journey of cultural discovery. Although, in my humble opinion, Donatello got the better bargain by being bundled with the other three turtles (as I found the works of Leo, Raph, and Angelo to be much more impressive).

Don’t get me wrong about Donatello. It’s not that he didn’t produce some brilliant masterpieces. I was in awe of his Madonna with Child sculpture in Siena, until I walked into room after room that was entirely devoted to paintings, reliefs, and sculptures of Madonna with Child. The Madonna with Child affiliation must have been to Renessaince artists what the organic affiliation is to Whole Food yuppies.

Patronizing so many museums gave Kyle and I the opportunity to perfect our touring technique. Originally, we decided to eavesdrop on the docent’s guided tours. After spotting a tour group, we strategically trailed them until they stopped to look at some masterpiece. With our backs casually turned, we would feign admiration for the painting in front of us (likely Madonna with Child) while trying to glean the history and importance of the work being discussed. I guess the museums had been hornswoggled too many times by shrewd visitors like myself, because nearly all of the docents talked into a microphone connected to the audio set of each paying tourist, resulting in garbled cliffhangers. This fresco was the most important work of its era because…Madonna...As you can see, the…signifies… Madonna…If you remember one thing about this museum it should be that…Madonna.

After this approach backfired, we started purchasing audio guides. It started with Kyle and I splitting one audio guide. But we immediately found it too cumbersome and socially embarrassing to hold our ears up to the same muted speaker, so we began to take turns listening to the audio guide and give each other the cliff notes.

Realizing that we were being penny smart but dollar stupid (I practiced no restraint when it came to the food and wine that I consumed), we finally succumbed to throwing down the extra Euros for our own audio guides. Finally skylarking with my own audio guide at the Louvre, I found myself smugly listening to some of the contents of the Code of Hammurabi engraved on the human-sized stele, when all of a sudden, my audio guide went static. Dead battery. , when all of a sudden, my audio guide went static. Dead battery. Great. Dead battery I and I’m only at 1700 BC. Instead of working my way through the labyrinth that is the Louvre, I poached off of Kyle until we exited for the day. I’m sure it was simply museum karma.

I’ve decided that the best strategy is to just summon Splinter and have him give me a personal tour. And besides, there’s always a chance I’ll pick up some ninjustu on the side.