Growing up everywhere, but nowhere close to art was how I spent the first 20 years of my life. Museums visited were always on historical or scientific subjects, but never on art. The idea of visuals in the cultures I grew up in was not as highly regarded in comparison to the science and history of things. The educational purpose found through the events that occurred or the birth of inventions were deemed to be more ‘interesting’ or ‘helpful’.
So for most of my life, I was oblivious to the arts and since young, having been appreciative of fashion on my own, you could imagine how much I was missing out! It was not until I left for university that I grew aware and exposed of the visual arts. Having lived in Vancouver, the Vancouver Art Gallery became my first escape to another world of fascination.
When I took a French course where 18th century paintings were the main focus, this drew me even deeper into the arts. My appreciation grew beyond the pretty aesthetics, but more so the context of what an artwork alludes to. Historical background, political nature, personal stories or even scandalous events exhibit some of many subjects behind a particular piece of artwork. The technicalities of skill combined with the patience of artists behind these creations are worthy of applaud; a silent appreciation at the gazes of many with hands resting on their jaw in awe. That was my sentiment at the opportunity of having seen my first Greuze.