The Decisive Moment

On the night we all sat down together and shared what our contributions to this trip would be, I really only had two strengths to share: being adaptable and knowing a few things about art.
I didn’t know this class would line up perfectly with my art history class when I signed up. I didn’t know that when I learned that the colonnade of St. Peter’s basilica is designed to invoke the feeling of being embraced into the church, that I would be on the recipient end of that massive outstretched hug. Yet, I found myself staring up at Michelangelo’s Ceiling like a kid at the zoo, aware of every detail of the creature in front of me.
Pediments, orthogonals, Memento Mori.
In Rome, every vocabulary word and essay you’ve ever written can be seen in every direction. At the Galleria Borghese, I found myself face to face with my written thesis on sculpture: Bernini’s David. It’s not the David everyone knows, but he seemed to escaped out of my textbook for me. Artistically, I am fascinated with movement, and if there’s one thing Bernini can do, it’s make the marble move. Literally and figuratively, David comes out of his marble form into our space, interacting with me and the other onlookers. He pulls back on the sling, eyes focused, his body off balance as he draws momentum. In art, we call this the “decisive moment”. It’s the moment you wait for, when the image is it’s most dynamic, right as the action happens.
When I think of all the experiences I’ve had on this trip, it’s full of these decisive moments. Hands raised above the ruins of Ostia Antica, a ceiling being blown off by painted angels, a look of understanding between people who may not have otherwise met. Our travel to Rome came into my space, I had to interact with it and learn to become a part of what made it so beautiful.
I’ve sort of been a rough “art translator” for the group. But the thing is, this trip to Rome and the people who joined me on it, have taught me a lot more about what art is and can be. This is our decisive moment.