Last summer I visited the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain. I love the building designed by Frank Gehry, like a fantastic and giant metallic boat, which reflects the color and the light of the sky in its incredible facade.
I know pretty well the interesting pieces of contemporary art they exhibit permanently, because I have been there several times. The day I went this summer there were two temporary exhibitions: one with a serial abstract paintings by Andy Warhol, and the second of sculptures and installations by a French American artist from whom I didn’t know about, Louise Borgeois (forgive my ignorance).
After looking at her work, I concluded that she must to be a tormented soul. The figure of the mother was always represented by enormous iron spiders, and to represent her home she put a guillotine.
If she wanted to convey anguish and hopelessness, she truly succeeded in her approach. The techniques were really interesting. But the feeling after seeing the exhibition was sadness.
Nevertheless I was glad to have had the opportunity to contemplate the work of this woman who died at 90 six years ago. She was a pioneer. And she really put at test my artistic taste.