Patrick Bringley

As an old art history student and former employee (library clerk) at the Cleveland Museum of Art, I was eager to get my hands on this. And I loved it.

In the wake of the wrenching death of his beloved older brother, Patrick Bringley redirects his life. He quits an entry-level job in the very rarefied atmosphere of The New Yorker magazine, and decides he wants to spend his days quietly, unobtrusively, with space to breathe and think. To do so surrounded by the splendor of the Metropolitan show more Museum of Art is the answer. He spent ten years, four days a week, in a dark blue polyester suit, pacing, leaning, watching, musing, counting, and chatting in those halls. This lovely, open-hearted book strikes the delicate balance between the museum and the "me," where so many writers get it wrong, coming down heavily on the side of themselves. He keeps his curious, enthusiastic, generous gaze turned outward: on the art, on the museum visitors, on his colleagues, and it is through his descriptions and observations that we get a sense of who he is. He gives us a backstage tour of the basements and hallways, light switches and locker rooms; idiosyncratic rituals of post assignments; affectionate character sketches of the diverse guard corps; and hard-earned understanding of the impact of gallery flooring (wood is comfortable; marble is not; and good socks are serious business, funded by the museum). Bringley is a friendly guide through galleries of painting, statuary, Islamic tiles, medieval armor, African sculpture, and Chinese scrolls, considering the different impacts these have when examined with a fresh and open eye, absorbed over many hours of pondering.

A gem of rumination on life, art, people, and one great and beautiful museum. show less

“...definition of art: something more beautiful than it has any right to be.”

“Much of the greatest art, I find, seeks to remind us of the obvious.”

Patrick Bringley has written the most kind-hearted and touching memoir I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. If you are after crazy museum escapades and tall tales, this is not it (there are some ;)). If you are after art history, this is not it. This is a book of grief and heartache; of love, grace and slow healing.

When your parents show more give you the love of art, it is a blessing. Patrick’s first visit to the Met as a child is beautiful. “What was beautiful in the painting was not like words, it was like paint – silent, direct, and concrete, resisting transformation even into thought. As such, my response to the picture was trapped inside me, a bird fluttering in my chest.” (The painting in question is Pieter Bruegel’s The Harvesters.)

The mundane details of the museum guard job are described in ways that are not mundane at all. After you’ve had this job for a while, you can tell who is a New Yorker and who isn’t, who has been to a great art museum before, and who is here for the first time. The author has respect and patience and care for them all. There is a lot of pride in a job well done.“I’m surprised at the meaning I begin to find in even small interactions with guards and visitors.”

Oh, by the way, would you prefer a twelve-hour day on a wood floor or en eight-hour day on a marble floor? (Hint: pick the former.) There are days when you hope that your post will be beside Titian (I would cherish the same hope, if I were a museum guard ;))

I love, love, love the way the author writes about art. It’s so personal, so universal, so humane. I’m happy to have walked through the museum with him. Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece. Chinese paintings and music. Art from the African continent. The Renaissance. The impressionists. Etc...

“In a typical gallery, ten or twenty gold-framed windows are blowing holes through the four walls.” Yes, great paintings tend to do that...

I wish that this book were longer. Patrick Bringley, your memoir was a beautiful and unexpected gift. Thank you. show less

I think this is the epitome of a good memoir for me; the author is what’s considered a regular guy who isn’t extraordinary, but he sees the world in an extraordinary way. It’s truly a meditation on grief and handling it in the way that works best, and I’m inspired by that. It wouldn’t surprise me to hear that more people are applying to be security guards at the Met after reading this as it does sound like a dream to be surrounded by the art every day (he made an excellent point show more that the “suits” just rush by it on their way to offices). Wonderful linking to all the works mentioned as well; I loved this so much and think I may reread it before it goes back to the library. show less

I fell in love with this book.

It’s a beautifully written and a really touching memoir. He’s a good storyteller. I liked how he went back and forth with times in his life and with a change of focus, especially with his museum job and with his brother and with his family life. His narrative was riveting.

I haven’t been to the Met in nearly 50 years and I’ve never been to the Cloisters. I might have enjoyed this book even more if I was more familiar with the museum. I would like to show more visit it (and many NYC museums) again. The armchair traveling I did when reading this book whetted my appetite for another real visit.

I loved reading about the guards and their various backgrounds.

I appreciated how he gave Emilie Lemakis some page space and made a point of saying this was her real name and encouraging his readers to buy her art. I did a google search on her – very interesting.

This is a special book. It’s a memoir, an art book, a history book, a philosophy book, and a great book about a great museum. As I read I wanted to learn more about most of what the author was writing. The art, the artists, the history, the Met, and more.

I now wish I’d kept my copy of The Quilts of Gee’s Bend, at least long enough to look at the quilts again.

Despite the long chapters it was an easy read and I found it hard to put down and couldn’t wait to get back to it.

I appreciated the humor!

I greatly enjoyed the drawings by Maya McMahon. They made the book even better. Because of them I would not recommend reading an audio edition of this book. I’m unclear about why she does not get official illustrator credit. There are also a couple of images that include a thank you to museums for permission to include them in this book.

I’m thinking I might now have some different perspectives when looking at artworks during museum visits and I’ll definitely feel more curious about the museum guards I encounter. show less