Curatorialist

The Obamas at The Pompidou in Paris

In my lifetime, I’ve never seen an image of a President at an art museum with his kid. I mean, I’m sure they’ve gone, just never seen it.  I can’t even imagine it. Bush, hand-in-hand with Barbara and Jenna, taking in the Denon Wing of the Louvre? I can’t formulate the image in my head. I really can’t even picture Bill and Chelsea walking the spiral pathway of the Guggenheim, even though it’s probably viewable from their home. And if they did, I picture him winking at girls the whole time.

This feels honest to me.  I’m looking at this shot and I’m seeing all children like Malia, standing before this lost art called art with a person who is willing to point and say, “Here’s why this is important.” And knowing. I’ve felt waves of encouragement with the new administration, but until now I hadn’t felt anything emotionally charged. Obviously, this is my hot topic, so it’s more likely to hit me harder, but I also believe that where goes art, so goes the best parts of this country. Watching the importance of it die on the vine around here has been tough. This shot, and accompanying article (talking about the revamping of the White House’s art collection), is encouraging. And, yeah, gives me a little hope. I said it.