travel: getty center

Over 30 years ago, I did a whirlwind tour of museums with a boyfriend--Los Angeles County Museum of Art, the Hammer Museum (I think?), La Brea Tar Pits and Museum, the Huntington Museum, Library and Botanical Gardens. I was arted out, and it was so long ago that I don't remember individual works. Did I view Thomas Gainsborough's Blue Boy or any of the Rembrandt portraits? Did I care about the Gutenberg Bible? I hadn't educated myself about modern and contemporary art and so was bewildered by LACMA. And I know I didn't visit the Getty because on later drives to San Diego, I'd see it in the distance and think to myself that I needed to visit. And so this summer, en route to meeting my brother and his grandkids in Anaheim, I decided to stay in Pasadena (I do remember going to the Norton Simon Art Museum during a QuiltCon visit) and revisit the Huntington, but this time I would concentrate on viewing the botanical gardens because I don't think I walked the grounds extensively. Only come to find that the Huntington is closed on Tuesday and what day then to visit the Getty? How far is the Huntington from the Getty? Didn't matter. I booked two nights for a hotel in Pasadena and resolved to visit the Getty on Tuesday and the Huntington on Wednesday. To get to the Getty from Pasadena, I had to drive through Glendale and to Los Angeles, up Sepulveda Boulevard through the neighborhood of Brentwood to get to the tram.                                

  

Lots of parking available at the bottom of the mountain, and I was becoming more and more impressed by the glimpses of the museum from the tram. And once on top, I found it all very amazeballs.

 

The number of exhibits was overwhelming rather like the architecture itself with its expanse and scope. But I climbed some steps and got a closer look at some statues. 

 

The nudes were from two different centuries, and so I liked the juxtaposition of two modern sculptures, contrasting in style and content and color.

I had not been excited about the Getty collection when looking at its website, but seeing Richard Meier's curvilinear and stark, straight-lined architecture of concrete, steel, aluminum, and stone and its placement into a California hilltop was stunning with its surrounding views of the giant metropolis of Los Angeles. Onward. I could recognize the Capitol Records building from one vantage point. But wow was there a lot of smog that I don't think I even could see the Pacific Ocean.  

I loved, loved, loved all the Italian travertine, both rough and polished of the buildings, floors, stairs, walkways and of course, all the windows from ceiling to floor to let in all the natural sunshine.

 

Oh the folly of the Pacific Railroad to build a city in a desert basin.

The gardens below were an interesting contrast to all the panoramic views.

 

I thought my sore throat and headache might be COVID but surmised later that it was the smog irritating my respiratory system. The plantings seem to also struggle from the ozone and nitrates with their yellowing foliage. But the Cactus Garden between the East and West pavilions was still impressive.

 

Climbing up and down stairs and traversing across walkways, in and out of galleries, glimpsing gardens below compelled me to then explore the outdoor gardens further downward. I was inside a courtyard and saw a door into a building to escape the desert heat and then found myself at the entrance to the 134,000 square-foot Central Garden, designed by California artist, Robert Irwin. I could  see more and more its labyrinth of pathways and gardens and a manmade waterfall as I got closer. 

  

As I wandered around and around and looked more closely at the plants and flowers, I could hear the rush of water more and more.

There's an element of surprise walking round and round on the gravel as you get closer and closer to the waterfall fountain.

 

There are benches and pergolas to provide cover from the glaring sunshine. 

And there need to be more gardens in sprawling Los Angeles as a relief from all its concrete and sunlight.

 

There's an element of surprise as you view the floating labyrinth in the pond below and see the top of the fountain.

There are even waterfowl or ducks swimming in the pond.

And once atop the waterfall fountain, I looked upwards.

Once I climbed back up to the top of the fountain, I followed its source upward back to Meier's architecture.

The gardens changed as I climbed upward, and I was loving all the succulents and small boulders of the hardscaping.

 

And you're forced to cross bridges over the stream to the fountain as you meander back up.

To quote my maps app, arrived. 

I had wondered why there were lawns at the center, but then overheard a docent say they were a transition to the lushness of Robert Irwin's Central Garden.  

I also viewed at the top of his garden his transition of the buildings to the fountain.               

What you don't get from this picture on a computer screen is how many stories up to that little hole at the top of the fountain from some pavilion down to the entrance of the Central Garden. And I like that reflection of the light hole on tunnel of this fountain.

Again I find the architecture and hardscaping so amazing about the Getty.                                 

I was seriously most impressed at the edifice that is the Getty even more so than the art that was in it. 

HOWEVER, there were some exhibits I enjoyed immensely. Like the photography of Imogen Cunningham and the juxtaposing sculpture from her friend, Ruth Asawa. Right away I recognized one of Asawa's sculptures.

 

I love that these two artists were in a tribe of their own.

 

And of course, Cunningham was commissioned to photograph portraits.

 

And yeah I only took pictures of sculptures and paintings I liked.  

  

Claudel's sculpture was my favorite. One of the few paintings I enjoyed was of course, of flowers. And I had just watched on the Magnolia Network a watercolor artist paint a huge bouquet of flowers with a dark background like those found of the European master artists of earlier centuries.

 

And I had to capture the intricacy of the carving of this marble bust at which I marveled.

 

And my friend, Donna was telling me about the pastel landscapes that she wants to create this summer, and so I do love the smudginess and softness of this exhibit on pastels. I'll need to show her this pic of Degas's pastel.

 

While in the Getty museum store, I saw this reproduction, which is giving me ideas on doing my own version in clay rather than bronze. Perhaps sculpture mix and frost porcelain skirt?

I didn't buy anything except a wide-brimmed bucket hat, which turned out to be a godsend in the glaring sunshine while I hiked and walked the rest of this road trip. I'm so glad I finally got to explore the Getty. Definitely a highlight of this visit to Southern California.