amy- Mucha Museum

Artists are much like philosophers: they think too much of life. No doubt, most people wish to have a life’s purpose, but I think this is especially expounded in the psyche of the artist or the philosopher. Philosophers tend to go for the jugular. A true philosopher will want to find the truth behind life and then throw himself in the direction of that truth. For an artist, it is more complex. There is always the dichotomy between recognition and anonymity. Even after that question is resolved, there is always the question of meaning. Have I made something meaningful? Is this art worth anything in the big scheme of things? This is something I saw as we visited the Mucha museum. Mucha definitely seemed to struggle with these questions at the beginning of his career as an artist. Though he was immediately thrust into fame, he never felt comfortable in the realm of commercial work. I think this is because, besides creating a beautiful picture, Mucha wanted his work to be far more than a beautiful picture. Returning to his roots and the problems within his homeland seemed to have given him more direction. The Slavic Epic was his obsession, his baby. This was his heart poured out onto canvas. This was his purpose and his direction. Learning about this side of Mucha really made me respect him even more as an artist and as a man of depth. I can appreciate his commercial work for the feelings they invoke within my own imagination, but I would like to experience his Slavic Epic just once. To see his ‘greatest work’ would be to see the heart of Mucha.