Wednesday, November 12, 2014

This Really Needs Music

The Hall of the Gods continued to be powerfully godly, and we took the less direct path thought he Greco-Romans towards the Byzantine exhibit.

What strikes you first about that exhibit is all the gold. The gaudiness of how religion was dressed up, in cassocks inlayed with silver and gold thread, large tapestries showing off the needle point of a thousands of hours of finger work of a bored nun or monk who settled in to pay homage to their particular version of God through the most decedent art.

The exhibit was not humble and about halfway through I felt as if the entire room was full of 13th century Gregorian chanting.

“Gods, this is all so churchy I feel like I can almost hear the chanting in the background,” I say to the Author.

“That’s cause they are playing Gregorian chanting in the background.”


And 11th and 13th century pieces to be specific.

“This needs a drink.”

“Sadly we are out of time, museum is closing soon.”




We hit the bathrooms on the way out (“Honestly, I once used my membership to go to the bathroom because I was downtown and I knew I could,” I said), then grabbed our coats and headed back into Chicago. I had a dinner date and the Author had his evening to attend to.

On the cold evening, as rain lightly started to fall on my head, I was reminded of the strands of the falling instillation and heard dark chants as I walked up the street and toward my next goal.

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