The Legacy of a Life

 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble,

whatever is right, whatever is pure,

whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - 

if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things.

Philippians 4:8

On Monday, my daughter and I visited the Guggenheim Museum in New York City.  We had never visited, and although not knowing what exactly we might see, we certainly were not expecting the sight that met our eyes just inside the door.  The Guggenheim was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright with circular ramps instead of a staircase winding up the interior of the building, from one floor to another.  This leaves a very large area in the center of the hall, rising up 5-6 stories to the roof.  In this unique space was displayed the most amazing art exhibit I have ever seen.

Maurizio Cattelan is an Italian sculptor whose work is unsettling, disrespectful, provocative, bold and irreverent.  When the Guggenheim asked Cattelan to do a retrospective of his work, he borrowed every piece of art he had created (except for two), and then hung them from the ceiling at various heights like so much limp laundry.  Some of the images are beyond disturbing:  young boys hung by a noose; a squirrel who has committed suicide in his miniature kitchen; the image of dead bodies covered by a sheet--each sculpted from marble; Adolf Hitler as a child; two New York policemen hung from their ankles; a girl lying face down in stocks with nails pierced through her hands; Pope John Paul II lying dead after being struck by a meteor.

Traveling up the outer ramps gave one a different vantage point to view the work, entitled All.  About half way up on the right, a chicken sits on top of a cat who sits on top of a dog who sits on top of a donkey (all the animals are taxidermied).  Further down on the opposite side are the sculpted skeletons of the same animals stacked in the same order.  An overwhelming feel of death and sadness pervaded this lifework of the artist.  That Mr. Cattelan is making a statement is beyond doubt.  What that statement means is another matter entirely.

Most of us are not visual artists, but we all leave behind a footprint from our lives on the souls of those who have known and loved us.  I hope that when I depart this world, the memories I leave behind are of peace and caring, joy and music, and most importantly, love.