I was sitting in church next to my oldest daughter, now 8, when she leans over to me and says,”Mama, I want to go back to that one museum.” As a family, we visit a lot of museums. I had no idea which one she wanted to visit. So I asked her, “Where did we visit the museum you want to see again?” She said, “I think it was in Spain.” Great. That narrowed it down to about 10 different museums in about 5 different cities. I needed more information. “What was in that museum that you want to see again?”
She then went on to describe the experience of walking through something shaped kind of like a ship, where the walls moved in and out, and it made you feel a little dizzy and a little sick. I thought about it, racking my brain for some kind of connection to her description. And then suddenly it clicked.
On our trip to Spain about a year and a half ago, we went to the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. This museum is worth the trip just for the building itself, but installed on the main floor as a permanent exhibition is Richard Serra’s “The Matter of Time”. Several giant metal structures with wavy walls, some based in elliptical shapes, dominate the massive space of the gallery. It was designed as an experiential exhibit, allowing patrons to walk through each of the sculptures. I had never heard of this exhibit before, and I was a little intrigued. There was a sign warning people that walking through the structures could cause nausea and disorientation. That made me skeptical. Really? I didn’t believe that part. But I like to try new things, and so we walked through each of the structures in the gallery.
The Guggenheim of Bilbao
Guess what? The experience of walking through curving structures where the walls lie at angles, sometimes seeming to close in on you above, sometimes narrowing beneath, sometimes seeming to lie parallel along an angular plain, really does affect how we experience space and time. Even while trying to maintain a regular pace, at times it felt like I was walking faster and at times slower. Our babysitter started feeling nauseous (poor girl) and had to sit down for a while. My skepticism melted away, and I felt in awe of how this sculpture affected my experience of space and time.
But I didn’t realize that it had profoundly affected my child as well. Almost two years later and without any inquiry on my part, she begged to go back and experience this art again. Sometimes traveling with children there are days that are tiring and difficult. Sometimes I wonder what they are taking away from all of these museums and architectural wonders, food and historical places, that we drag them to. These moments when I realize that our travels shape the way our children and experience and understand the world around them, makes all of it worth it. Someday, my darling, we’ll go back and visit the Guggenheim again.
little travel bugs 