One Last Visit to the Asian Art Museum

I woke up to lots of voices outside—I can hear the voices from the sidewalks, even though I’m on the sixth floor. I just heard what sounded like a very agitated black man arguing loudly—perhaps an aggressive panhandler on drugs. I shouldn’t jump to that conclusion, I know, but it was an awfully frantic voice. A lot of people here don’t seem to care that others, strangers, can hear them—or perhaps they’re being dramatic, putting on a show because they’re aware that they’re in public. On Pier 39, a white woman on a cell phone was screaming in rage and in foul language—and this was on the fourth of July, a holiday when people were gathered around to have fun! There were lots of people around her, and they looked like they were trying to ignore her. Like, awkwardly trying to ignore her, the way I’ve been behaving with panhandlers (most of whom, by the way, are male and all are white or black, never Asian). And there’s a frantic, obnoxious horn honking right now. Well, that’s something I won’t miss about San Francisco! In Oakland in Topeka, there’s typically dead silence after ten pm. But if I lived in San Francisco, I’d preferably live in the Haight, not this downtown area.

I spent my last day at the Asian Art Museum. I went through the three special exhibits on the main floor, starting with “A Curious Affair”—the one about east and west meeting and interpreting each other’s cultures, which is a highly entertaining topic, sometimes comical. It’s certainly something I’ve noticed from the western side—Chinoiserie, for instance.

I got through the special exhibits faster than I expected and then it was just after 1 pm and I went to the café one last time and had my favorites, vegetable curry and Thai iced tea; but this time I didn’t grab a dessert/ snack, and my total was only $10 something. I read more of In Praise of Tara at a leisurely pace. (I’m starting to think that maybe I should read something lighter at the airport, but of course my suitcase is packed—very packed.)

After lunch, I went to the second floor to a couple sections I hadn’t really gotten to yet. First, there was one Japanese gallery I had somehow missed: it has a lovely and fully functional tea house, but it’s in a display cabinet (a big one, of course) like everything else, rather than in a garden (let alone on an island, like at the Missouri Botanical Gardens). There are also lots of 20th – 21st century Japanese baskets, from a collection of over 800 that a patron donated to the museum in 2002.

Then I went to the other end of the 2nd floor and looked slowly over a couple cabinets near the elevator that were full of Chinese goodies. Since shortly after I got to the museum, I had started jotting down notes on what I think is an important topic for understanding Chinese art: the symbols that appear throughout Chinese art. For instance, cranes represent longevity, and fungus (mushrooms) represent immortality. Just outside the entrance to “A Curious Affair” two very tall cloisonné cranes, probably at least six feet tall, hold fungus in their mouths, and at the very top is a spike for a tall candle. (They were made in China for a wealthy European.)

On the second floor, across the hall from a display cabinet of a variety of Chinese items, is a series of plaques on the wall describing the various meanings of particular imagery. So I plopped down on the floor and started writing this info in my sketchbook. However, a woman who worked at the museum came along and gave me a photocopy of all the exact same info, complete with the illustrations! We had a little conversation, including how in the fall there will be a special exhibit on this topic and it’ll be in the member magazine too. So in short, that’s something I didn’t have to copy down.

It was fun consulting the list and looking at the stuff in the display—there was pottery, snuff boxes, jade sculptures, embroidered things such as hair ornaments, etc, all with symbolic imagery. The other display cabinet that I hadn’t looked over carefully yet was about popular religion in China, how they combined Buddhism with Daoism, etc, and I took some note son a goddess who was originally Taoist but who also took on Buddhist elements. The display had two versions of her, one as a three-dimensional white porcelain figure with 16 arms, the other as an almost flat gilt picture with 8 arms and with male Taoist deities hovering around her.

It was 3:30 when I finished looking at this display, so I decided to go up to the third floor (my favorite floor) and spent time with Buddha sculptures I had previously visited. While doing this, I drew a small bronze Cambodian Buddha (standing about a foot tall—and I think this drawing turned out well), a seated bronze Siamese Buddha, and a big—like life-size—standing Quanyin.

On the way back to my hotel room, I stopped at the Disney store (I’ve passed it every day in the past two weeks). I don’t admire their business practices, namely exploiting Chinese women in sweatshops, but I have to admit that I do like some of their films. After walking uphill on pavement, the carpeting felt good on my feet (though not as good as the bath I took later), although it certainly wasn’t quieter than the street. There were lots and lots of people—I guess they get many customers during rush hour. I looked at toy animals and at action figures, but there was nothing Tim Burton related—Corpse Bride action figures were what I had in mind. This store was more kid-oriented than that (although it has Pirates of the Caribbean action figures) and might not have had Corpse Bride stuff even when it was in movie theaters.

Since then, I’ve been back to my room, and I’m packed and I’ve taken a bath. I went downstairs and used the computer—not only to send off an e-mail but particularly to check the flight—I got the terminal and gate numbers and looked at a map of the airport. I’ll probably e using the air bus again.

I’ll be getting up at 7 am. Just to be safe. I figure that I’ll be moving really slowly down Powell Street, due to my heavy suitcase full of books, and then I’ll have to wait for the subway, and then I have to get on an air train… Before I get my suitcase checked in and my ticket printed out, and at last I’ll be at the correct terminal. Once I’m there, I won’t be nervous (of course, there’s also KC airport to deal with—particularly taking the shuttle to the parking lot and finding my car).