Sometimes in life there is a painting or two that punches you in the face when you least expect it. In the summer of 2011, I was walking through a museum in Chicago with my friend. It was crowded with tourists and people huddled in groups for tours. We rounded the corner and this is what we saw:
It is French painter Jules Breton's "Song of the Lark". I had never heard of him before. I am sure I had never seen this painting either, but it took my breath away. In real life when you are standing at a distance from this painting there is something all together haunting about the darkness of it. The idea that she has worked until the sun is dipping over the horizon in the distance makes you empirically tired. We walked closer to the painting slowly and as we did this the light of the sun changed in the background.
We must have looked like freaks walking forward and backward 10 times as the painting changed with every step. There are few times in my life that I have cried in a museum. This was one of them. It is such a beautiful painting to behold, so simple and pastoral, but deep with meaning. It is one of my favorite paintings since seeing it in the flesh.
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