Meeting God at the Art Museum (Part 2)

(If you missed Part 1, click here to go back)

After some of what I picked up from Monet, I then circled back to the previous gallery where I'd missed the works of Toulouse-Lautrec.  I knew very little about him, but I saw a crowd sitting and standing around a huge painting and a guy talking about the artist and this work.  I was curious, so I began to eavesdrop, as I am apt to do.

He was in the middle of showing how Lautrec had initially cut out the part of the painting with the green-faced woman in it.  She is off to the side, with a distressed look on her face, and not exactly an attractive part of the painting.  One could understand that he wanted her out of the image.  Then he went on to tell the story of who this woman was and what we know of her.  I found her story fascinating.

She was a kind of show-girl - dancer, singer - stage performer, and she was out to make it and become someone - maybe sought fame or applause.  He said we really know very little about her.  She is the one on the famous Lautrec painting that was to promote her in a show.  He said they had searched for records of her performances, and so far as we can tell, she disappears from history as an unremarkable, not greatly talented performer.  It seems she didn't sing well, perform well or have outstanding beauty or comeliness.  I instantly thought, 'She's a lot like me.'

I was fascinated by her story.  There is so little to know of her.  She existed in the world and my guess is, she lived a painful, discouraging, difficult life.  If we think of life purpose and goals and jostling for position, we would probably assess her as having failed to attain or reach her goals.  The painting where she is off to the side shows her distressed expression - a heavily painted face, and movement towards a life that seemed just beyond her grasp.  This picture draws an audience every day.  Her image, her expression, her vulnerable display of anguish resonates with audiences throughout history.  She speaks, though silent.

She's long gone from this world, and if we did know of her life, we'd probably see a simple woman whose dreams were unrealized.  Yet in a funny way, she has attained a level of immortality - her memory - a snapshot of her existence, of her pain - continue to speak to the heart of those who take the time to observe her.

I imagine she had some kind of relationship to Lautrec - the gallery-talk-guy said that she had wanted him to paint her advertisement to promote her show, and he did.  I find meaning in that, in asking for help from this master artist, she continues to exist in the memories of those who never knew her.

I reflected on what I find myself wrestle with often: the greater meaning and purpose in the lives we live.  Yes, there's meaning in relationship.  In family.  In raising kids.  In meaningful labour - the jobs and careers we pursue.  Most of our efforts and endeavours are tied up in searching for meaning - to justify our existence.  This woman was no different.

Yet, by and large, most of us are called to lead small, unremarkable lives.  To not stand out, to not be spectacular.  We can look at those who have bright-and-shiny-gifts and wish we were them.  We can feel small by comparison.  Comparing is a quagmire of discouragement: I warn you to avoid it.

I came away from the Lautrec exhibit and pondering her lessons to me - this green-painted woman.  She entrusted herself to be exhibited - expressed - displayed by a great Artist, and because of this trust she remains as a voice from the past to this day.  Her moments of despair are a link to all who gaze on her and feel the same kind of distress.

I wonder if God doesn't whisper to me (not that I speak for Him), 'I am the Greatest Artist: I can be trusted with your small life.  I can use the most ordinary things if you allow me, including yourself.'

Today I read Psalm 116 and wished I could sit with the woman in Lautrec's painting and read it to her:

I love the Lord, because he has heard
    my voice and my supplications.
Because he inclined his ear to me,
    therefore I will call on him as long as I live.
The snares of death encompassed me;
    the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me;
    I suffered distress and anguish.
Then I called on the name of the Lord:
    “O Lord, I pray, save my life!”
Gracious is the Lord, and righteous;
    our God is merciful.
The Lord protects the simple;
    when I was brought low, he saved me.
Return, O my soul, to your rest,
    for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.
For you have delivered my soul from death,
    my eyes from tears,
    my feet from stumbling.
I walk before the Lord
    in the land of the living.
10 I kept my faith, even when I said,
    “I am greatly afflicted”;
11 I said in my consternation,
    “Everyone is a liar.”
12 What shall I return to the Lord
    for all his bounty to me?
13 I will lift up the cup of salvation
    and call on the name of the Lord,
14 I will pay my vows to the Lord
    in the presence of all his people.
15 Precious in the sight of the Lord
    is the death of his faithful ones.
16 Lord, I am your servant;
    I am your servant, the child of your serving girl.
    You have loosed my bonds.
17 I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice
    and call on the name of the Lord.
18 I will pay my vows to the Lord
    in the presence of all his people,
19 in the courts of the house of the Lord,
    in your midst, O Jerusalem.
Praise the Lord!

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