Greetings from the newly refurbished American Past...

This friendly shepherdess is one of several examples of framed embroidery in the newly refurbished American wing. She's actually waving at a shepherd.  

Yesterday was shaping up to be a very noisy day in our neighborhood, and Bob had to work all morning, so C.Z. and I decided to escape to the newly refurbished American Wing at the Metropolitan Museum, which re-opened this week.  The part that opened this week was the sculpture courtyard, with its new pottery mezzanine, and the period rooms.  The paintings, for now, remain either in the 19th Century European Paintings section on the other side of the museum, or in storage.

Above are some of the ceramics on display in the new glass mezzanine.  Even the stairs are glass! I'm fond of these minimalist-looking vases and have one in celadon green that I bought from the museum shop.  (It's a copy, of course, and the neck is not so graceful, but I still like it.)

The main entrance to the period rooms downstairs an old bank facade, but inside, it looks like an old Georgian dining room. Many Southerners still decorate their homes this way, so it reminds me of the small town in Virginia where my parents lived until a few years ago. (I was born there, but then we moved to Georgia and they moved back when I was in college.) When I'd take walks at dusk, the large entrances with fan lights would be lit up, often revealing chandeliers and Chinese-inspired wallpaper.  

One of the relocated Georgian period rooms in this section of the museum includes a window from the original house with names scratched into the glass.  For some reason, I think I've heard that girls scratched their names with their rings, and I think it used to be a common practice.  At least, I've seen other windows etched with names as well, including one in a private home in Virginia. The home was built on a hill and surrounded by large trees so that it caught summer breezes, and I imagined the occupant, perhaps a teenage girl, daydreaming as she looked out the upstair window over the valley below. Was she waiting for company to arrive? 

The next photos (above and below) are from the Early American (17th Century) collection, housed off by itself in a small third-storey nook not accessible from any other part of the museum. For the first couple of years we explored the museum, we didn't even know it existed. But the MMA is so large that it's fun to wander around in it much the same way that C.S. Lewis wandered down long hallways as a child. So I used to let C.Z. guide me around by the hand.  It made the grandmas smile, and one day we found a small staircase. At the top was a Puritan meetinghouse surrounded by little Early American period rooms, which we could explore all by ourselves!

Now that the American Wing has been renovated, these period rooms have been mostly dismantled and made into display rooms for casework, and they are made more accessible via a new glass elevator.  Some of the old architectural elements remain, but several of the rooms no longer look like someone could live there. 

I remember how enchanted C.Z. was with these rooms as a child, when we'd go in and pretend for a few minutes that we lived in them.  The new arrangement looks like it would be interesting for Antiques Road Show buffs, but less so for children.  Still, many period rooms remain downstairs and in other parts of the museum.  And now that the ones upstairs are more accessible, maybe they'll be open more often.

This Shaker period room on the lowest level (19th Century) hasn't changed. I've always liked it. My own bedroom furniture is Shaker style. I'm not sure Shaker furniture quite works in an Arts and Crafts era New York City apartment, either, but I like to pretend it does!

Most of the American artworks are still housed in the study collection. For one thing, the American Painting galleries are still closed, with highlights on display until 2011 in the European collection. The study collection looks like a grocery store for art--many narrow aisles of glass cases, with masterpieces inside.  Even before the renovation C.Z. and I were often surprised to find paintings by Mary Cassatt or John Singer Sargent crammed into these glass cases.  Many of the artworks do get rotated into the galleries now and then, though.

While exploring the study collection, we were sometimes amused by the curators' sense of humor. Some of the pieces looked as though they were bored or wanted to escape.  The woman above appears to be peeking behind the bust next to her. 

And among many expressions of placid Victorian calm, and even resignation, we found this fellow (above center). Whatever could he be so indignant about?  We turned around in the aisle, following his gaze exactly, and saw...

Clearly the feeling is mutual.