The power of art

The famous Winged Victory of Samothrace stands tall and proud in the Llouvre

The first time I saw her, she took my breath away. The second time, she made me cry.

The first time, I was only 22 years old and visiting Paris, France. I had never been surrounded by so much art--really fantastic art! How could I possibly take it all in? My sister, an art collector and history buff, tried as best she could to prepare me and her seven children for our first trip to the Louvre. Highlighting several famous pieces such as the Mona Lisa, she gave us all something specific to look for, but nothing she said prepared me for the moment I turned the corner and looked down the long, marble arcade to see Winged Victory of Samothrace. 

Perched high on a mass of stone, she was stunningly strong, remarkably powerful, and utterly undaunted. Instantly, without warning, something about the statue resonated in me. Whom did this statue represent? Where did it come from? And the most pressing question of all: Why had I never even seen a photo of her before? 

I was breathless, speechless.

I don't remember learning much about the history of Winged Victory that day, but I certainly never forgot the electric feeling I had on our first encounter. Unparalleled by any other experience I had with art before, that thrilling feeling stayed with me for years. 

Then a couple of years ago, I went back to Paris a second time, this time with two of my own teenage children. I wondered if they would be similarly moved by this magnificent piece of art, and I wondered if I would be equally impressed when I saw Winged Victory again. Secretly, I worried the magic would be gone and that I would have to explain away my first sighting of her as merely high-pitched, young-adult emotions.

Now a mother of five in my 40s and having passed through a few of life's vicissitudes, I loved her this time even more. Now, I wept when I saw her broken wing had been repaired with nails and boards--a detail I had not noticed the first time. In fact, many pieces (118) had been carefully pieced back together to create Nike, this 8-foot-tall "Greek Goddess of Victory" who once stood on the prow of a ship. Headless, she seemed to represent all women who meet life's unexpected storms courageously and, in spite of being weather-torn, come out triumphant, determined to go forward. 

There she stood, still strong and fearless, but this time it was not only her power that moved me. This time she seemed to embody the perfect mixture of turbulence and steadiness, the perfect combination of dignity and defiance, the perfect balance of femininity and masculinity, and the perfect blend of grace and strength. She was my kind of woman! She was my heroine, still.

That day I learned a few important lessons not only about art galleries but also about the power of art. 

First, it's impossible to take it "all" in, especially in the great galleries of the world. Certainly, that's why people revisit the same museums time after time, year after year. Furthermore, like rereading a great novel at different times in life, seeing art multiple times and at different stages of life can similarly teach, inspire, and nurture one’s soul in new and unexpected ways.

Also, I learned that art is best experienced both intentionally and serendipitously. Even though my sister tried to prepare me for the great art of the Louvre, the physical and emotional reaction I had to Winged Victory of Samothrace the first time was probably even more powerful because I was unprepared for her beauty and majesty. The second time I saw her, though now familiar with her shape and texture, I discovered new things about Winged Victory and what she might represent, thereby giving me surprising insights to myself.