So here we are at 21st Street and Q.
The Phillips Collection, one man’s collection gathered in his mansion dedicated to displaying art in an intimate setting where the works are hung side by side in casual conversation.
1. In the Rothko Room. Four walls and four Rothko paintings glowing in dim light with a single sitting bench in the middle.
2. In a gallery amid four Cézannes with Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party on the far wall. I will always prefer Cézanne.
3. In a room full of Bonnards, eight of them. I didn’t even know Bonnard, and here I am standing amid them with the frond of The Palm radiating green towards me.
4. Peering thru a doorway, looking at The Road Menders as Van Gogh’s gnarly trees reaching out from the other side of the far room.
5. Ok, and here we are again: Cézanne. I told you. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 of them. And what’s up with Seated Woman in Blue, something I might attribute to him, and Garden at Les Lauves, something abstract enough that I see no Cézanne in it, both done toward the end of his years?
6. In the music room. One Bracque. Two Picassos. And others. Picasso’s Woman with Green Hat is the best. They have concerts here on Sundays. How cool is that?
7. And now I sit on a bench scribbling in my notebook beneath Kandinsky’s Succession with tears in my eyes. I think the docent standing in the doorway is watching me. Kandinsky next to two Mondrians—words fail me, hence the tears. I gather my wits and turn around. Five Klees.
The walking tour is about to start. We have no more time. We have to go, and we were only getting started. We leave the gallery, walk back thru the music room, cross the bridge walkway to the main entrance and find the place where the curator is waiting to take us upstairs.