I'm not sure how I've managed to miss Alphonse Mucha for all this time... we've been like ships passing in the night. Looking back now, I can see how most of my favorite artists from past and present have been influenced by him and yet, I was never able to make it to the source, the grand daddy of Art Nouveau. At any rate, I'm thankful that our paths have finally crossed. Mistakenly thinking that a National Geographic photo exhibit was taking place at the Seoul Arts Center, I dragged T and my parents all the way to the Hangaram Gallery space one unseasonably warm September afternoon... only to find that the photo exhibit took place one year prior (way to go math teacher). In an effort to salvage the afternoon, we asked about what other exhibits were in fact being shown and learned about the Mucha show. Unfortunately, being a Saturday afternoon, the art center was an utter mad house and the thought of waiting in line for hours just to buy tickers was enough to send us running as far away as possible.
Mistakenly thinking that a National Geographic photo exhibit was taking place at the Seoul Arts Center, I dragged T and my parents all the way to the Hangaram Gallery space one unseasonably warm September afternoon... only to find that the photo exhibit took place one year prior (way to go math teacher). In an effort to salvage the afternoon, we asked about what other exhibits were in fact being shown and learned about the Mucha show. Unfortunately, being a Saturday afternoon, the art center was an utter mad house and the thought of waiting in line for hours just to buy tickers was enough to send us running as far away as possible.
The seed had been planted however, and within a few days (on a weekday) when the crowds were a little more controlled, T and I returned to the Seoul Arts Center to learn a little more about Mucha. As it turned out, the exhibit was impressively comprehensive. We kept waiting for it to end but the show kept on going... snaking through hallways and across rooms, I could feel myself falling deeper and deeper in love. The only thing that could eventually tear me away was my greater love for food. Lunch time was upon us and I was starving. It was time to go. If I had any lingering ideas of becoming a starving artist (like I did in high school) I think they were dismissed once and for all that day. Even Mucha couldn't come between me and a bowl of noodles.
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