Reflections on Pompidou

Towards the end of our time studying abroad I found myself excited to visit the Centre Pompidou for a number of reasons. 1) I had been outside the building countless times throughout my stay in Paris and I had yet to enter the peculiar structure to see what it was all about. 2) At this point in our trip I found myself a little burned out. Every time we entered a museum, church, or chateau I was increasingly losing interest in what I was seeing. Everything had begun to feel the same, and I had lost some of the excitement I once had for the historic places we were visiting.

For me, Pompidou was a refreshing break from everything we had done up until that point. Though I didn’t spend hours and hours in the museum admiring the work, the visit I had seemed be just what I needed to get out of the funk I was about to fall into of not being fully engaged in the sites we were visiting. My whole life museums have been a hit or miss activity with me. Rarely am I the person lurking in each room listening to the audiotape or reading each plaque. Normally, only a few elements of what I see intrigue me enough to spark my interest in seeking out more information on them. However, at Pompidou I found myself constantly engaged with the art I was seeing. Whether it was because I thought it was ridiculous or because I somehow connected with the piece, the entire visit seemed to come at the perfect time for me, giving me another burst of enthusiasm for the city I was living in and the opportunities I had to see countless artistic and historical sites.

Our assignment for the visit was to pick one piece that stood out to us, whether we liked the piece or questioned why it was art. As I said before, I found myself constantly connecting or questioning pieces in Pompidou but it wasn’t until the end that I found something I felt I could write about. One of the last rooms I entered held a piece by Rachel Harrison named Syntha-6. Though there was a number of pieces in which I asked myself the question “What qualified this as worthy of being in a museum?” this one really irked me. Maybe it was because it was at the end of my visit, and I had increasingly become baffled by the number of pieces that seemed too simple or bizarre to be considered art. 

The piece (pictured to the right) was an interesting colorful sculpture, and atop the figure stood a jumbo sized container of Syntha-6 protein powder. In my opinion the colors worked well together, and it was interesting. But what confused me was that the artist took the time to create this sculpture and then chose to put some material object on top of it. Sure, I know you can use everyday objects to make a statement, or manipulate objects to make a new object, but this seemed different. To me, it was as if she made a sculpture and felt it was unfinished, so she looked around the room and took the container of protein powder she’d used to make a shake that morning and plopped it atop the piece and called it good. Now, I’m sure there was much more thought put behind the piece, but I frankly couldn’t bring myself to figure it out. It served as my last straw with the Pompidou, and after making sure to photograph it I quickly exited the museum and went back out into Paris reenergized and ready to take on the final weeks of my time abroad.