Chichu Museum on Naoshima

Originally written on December 23, 2005 PM

Biking along the road I approach a divide that indicates my hotel is to the left and Chichu Museum is to the right. I know that I can get to the museum by taking the road past my hotel; but, I assume that this is a short cut. It ends up being the steepest road I have ever ridden up. Even first gear on the bike was not enough. Twice, I get off to walk. Is this what they mean my suffering for art?

Finally, I am at the ticket booth. I ask if staying at a hotel owned by the museum’s sole benefactor makes me eligible for any discount. Who ever said that JPN people can’t say no, never asked for a discount.

I gather that the approach to the Chichu Museum is designed to recall the path way to a tea house. When going to a tea ceremony, so I am told, you pass through a garden and a sometimes somewhat difficult pathway before entering the tranquility of the tea house—something, typically JPN, about preparing you for a Zen experience.

Getting into the Chichu is just as arduous; but well worth it. Architect-de-jour Ando is at his best at this palace of art built to house permanent installations by three artists: a so-so monumental work by American Walter De Maria; two sublime works by James Terrell and five breathtaking pieces from Monet’s “Water Lilly” series. The latter are hung in a sauna-like white room that makes you feel that you are actually entering his misty works.

Last year my niece, Sydney, took me to sculpture museum in Dallas (designed by Renzo Piano). Sydney is a budding artist herself; but she is nine years old, so her father drove us—and paid our way. Thanks, Bro.

The Nasher Sculpture Center was my first time to see a “Terrell Room.” A built-in stone bench lines all four walls of this empty room. The walls are sloped so that when seated you recline with a view of a rectangular opening in the ceiling. That’s it. Just relax and watch the clouds go by or the sky turn from blue to purple to black at sunset. It is still not clear to me what is on exhibition here: the sky or the room which frames it so delicately. This is the combination of stone and sky is Terrell’s magic.

I think of Ms. Sydney and simplicity as I gaze upward in Chichu’s Terrell Room. Inevitably, I loose track of time and over stay my limit. I bike back to the hotel where the driver is anxiously waiting to take me back to the ferry and away from this island of hills and art and architecture.