Rubin Essay Contest

It was drizzling the day I decided to visit the Ruben Museum. The city was washed out and gray. As I walked down 7th avenue, I noticed that every building looked like the other. They were big, bulky and bland. They were so cold and unwelcoming and I started to feel dejected. As, I rounded the corner of Loehmann’s I was surprised to see the Ruben Museum building. It was nothing like the blocks of cement around it. It was primarily glass and it emitted this soft glow, like it was beckoning you to come in. I won’t lie, I was happy to go in and step out of the dull dampness of the outside.

Sometimes when I go to new places, I tend to feel uncomfortable. New things take me out of my zone of comfort. But thats not what I felt when I entered the museum. The moment I stepped in the thing that hit was the amazing aroma. I turned around to find the source. It was the cafe, and let me tell you, that place smelled wonderful! The aroma was just like something I’d smell if i were at home. I think thats why I felt so comfortable walking into the museum. It felt just like home, and not to mention the first thing your eyes feast on is a beautiful glass spiral staircase. I stood underneath the staircase and looked up at the ceiling. The top was all glass and it looked like a light at the end of a tunnel. As I started ascending the stairs, I couldn’t help but get that feeling that maybe I was on a mini journey of sorts.

On the second floor, there was a screen projecting all the countries whose arts were on display in the museum. I saw India on the list. My mother’s side of the family came from India and my dad’s from Bangladesh, but I must confess I know very little about India or Bangladesh. See, my family is as American as it can get. We speak English at home, eat American food. Forks, spoons and steak are a common sight at our dinner table. The only times I would have curry is when my I would go to restaurants. If someone were to ask me what I was I would reply “American.” Sometimes when my grandmother came over she would bombard me with stories of India and life there. I had no interest in it. I don’t know what it was really. I just didn’t feel a connection to the country. Maybe I was afraid that I wouldn’t fit into American society. As a kid I was the only girl who had color on her skin. I was the only girl girl with jet black hair. And my name sure wasn’t Jane Smith. It was Tasnia Chowdhury, and it was very different. It was around that time that I decided that I would become like my peers. And I had succeeded. I knew nothing about India aside from the fact that Gandhi and Buddha were from there and the movie Slum dog Millionaire was based there. The basic things you learn about in school.Yes, I admit. I was ignorant to my own culture.

As, I walked around the museum, I was in awe. The art was so beautiful. As, I would look at the displays description, I would notice India on most of the descriptions. I stared at a sculpture of the deity Shiva and his wife Parvati. I was hypnotized by the sheer detail on the sculpture and the story behind it. It was truly exquisite. As I walked away from the sculpture, I couldn’t believe I had never heard of Shiva before. In fact I had heard of none of these Indian deities. Not Kali, or Vasuhara. For a second, I stood there disappointed in myself. Here I was 18 years old and I had never heard of the great Shiva! When I went up to the next floor, I saw Atta Kim’s On Air photographs. There was one picture of a distorted reality. I started at it for a long time and it dawned on me. My eyes were just as blurry as the picture in front of me. I had lost touch of who I was. I was trying to run away from reality. For many years I tried to convince myself that I was American. In reality, I was just ashamed of my culture because it was different. As I stood in the museum full of beautiful displays from my culture, I realized that I had refused to acknowledge the beauty. I had never never attempted to make a connection with my culture and that is why I was so detached to it. At that moment, I was so disappointed with myself. I had wasted so many years shunning a part of myself. And so as I stood there in the middle of the museum, I promised myself that I would reach out and discover a part of me. Sure I was American, but I was Indian too. And that part of me should not be hidden inside of me. I should display myself just like statues. Who I am is beautiful and complex and that is something to be proud of.

Before I knew it I had reached the top floor. I had reached the light at the end of the tunnel. I looked down to see how far up I was. I was happy to realize that I wasn’t the same person I was when I was down there. I welcomed this change.

This material is the sole work of Tasnia Chowdhury and no sources were used.

The Rubin Museum of Art Visit

This first semester at Baruch as well as the semesters to follow are all part of the college experience that will shape us to be more knowledgeable and experienced individuals. However, I believe that journey passes by very quickly, and we take little time to reflect on who we were, what we have learned, and who we are becoming. I am thankful the freshman seminar for this year was based around the themes of identity and self discovery as it helped me in the endeavor of learning about myself. The reading, A Bitter Sea by Charles N. Li and the visit to the Rubin Museum of Art only enhanced the curriculum. Experiences like my visit to the Rubin Museum not only provided amazing art and architecture, but also helpful insight on my ancestral traces and educated me on a vast part of the world.

My heritage had always been a struggle to explain, let alone understand. Being Chinese Guyanese and Indian Guyanese was a confusing aspect of my life, especially growing up in Richmond, Virginia where I was the only tan face in a sea of black and white. As a child, I knew no differently, and thought I was the same as everyone else until another student saw the dissimilarity and was quick to point it out. He took apart my last name to his advantage and construed some rather witty jokes. Needless to say, I became excruciatingly aware of my solitude in terms of physical appearance and my strange last name.

Thankfully, my family decided to move to Queens, New York when I was ten years old. It was one of the best things that happened to me. My previous life in Virginia had little diversity and mixture. The Guyanese culture in Queens was so rich and vibrant, not to mention the other cultures that added so many colors and so much life in one place. In just a few years, I learned how to dance to classical Punjabi music, drink a Jamaican ital jockey, and speak a few words of “street” Spanish. Despite the variety of music, foods, and languages in New York, my identity solidified. It is simply human nature to feel belonged and loved, and it was certainly a beautiful feeling to know that I belonged to a group of people. As the years passed by, I slowly became more confident and able to explain that I was Guyanese and what my culture involved. I recognize that one’s surroundings can truly enhance experiences and create an open mind in even a young child.

I am no longer a young child, but my mind still takes in a great deal from its surroundings. One environment that was truly unique and independent in its style was the Rubin Museum. Being aware that I had Chinese and Indian ancestral roots, I was somewhat intrigued by the Himalayan arts. However, I had no knowledge of the Chinese or Indian languages and cultures. Just walking into the museum took some time to truly absorb the ambiance. The fresh, clean look of just the front room was refreshing and looked so rich. Immediately, I could smell some sort of curry wafting in from the café along with a kind of incense. My brain suddenly took me back to my aunt’s jandhis, which are Hindu ceremonies that are done yearly to bless the home and family. The combination of smells of the incense and curries were magically linked to my family’s culture. I instantly felt a warm invitation. As I stepped inside, the rich dark floors led to a spiraling staircase. I did happen to look up at the stunning roof that seemed to open up to heaven itself. It’s beautiful, yet simplistic design resembles something holy and peaceful.

Amongst the many figurines and artworks, one that I clearly remember is a bright orange staircase. I can recollect that the stairs were somehow related to Buddhism, but it certainly reminded me of the religions of the world and how they are all interrelated. Every religion promotes the improvement of one’s self and morals which will ultimately lead to a reward, whether it is heaven or eternal peace. That artistic piece gave me a sense of unity with the world as we should try to achieve some sort of advancement within ourselves. Another work that stands out in my memory is the never-ending pans of rice which were a representation of a Buddhist tradition. Foods for the gods are something seen in several cultures, including Guyanese culture. Although it is not specific to Buddhist nature, Guyanese culture promotes ritually feeding the wandering spirits of deceased family members. These artworks showed some similarities to Guyanese culture and, in turn, provided a sense of belonging. The Guyanese culture is often overlooked as we are from a tiny country with little voice in which we are trying to change. This musem made me feel different. I felt somewhat stronger. Although there were some variations, my own culture was being exhibited in this Rubin Museum. There was light being shone on my ancestors. It felt authentic and concrete.

The Rubin Museum of Art, although concentrated on the Himalayan culture, reflected my ancestral roots as well as the human nature to create a society and its own traditions. The museum proves that we are all different but very much connected to each other in many ways. Fundamentally, we are all humans sharing the same basic needs to feel belonged and exchange thoughts with likeminded people. Growing up, I may have felt out of place and odd. Today, I have learned through experiences like the Rubin Museum that there is place for each of us in this world.

 **This is to state that this contest entry is solely the work of Jessica Chu-A-Kong. No external sources were used.

Walking into the Rubin Museum, one feels immediately at peace in the dimly lit entrance. There is a smell in the air that is reminiscent of old paper—slightly sweet, antiquated and comforting. Moving beyond the reception desk, we are greeted by the sight of a spiral staircase and two bronze lions. A quick glance upwards reveals several floors, and a large glass disk suspended in the empty space around the stairs. The rooms are large and—by the time we arrive—mostly devoid of visitors. But that is fine, because it allows us to appreciate the artwork in silence.

On the second floor, we are greeted with the sight of tapestries and colored cloth hanging all around. Even before looking at the descriptions on the wall, I can easily pick out the Buddhist references and motifs scattered throughout the fabric. The central theme of these pieces seems to be faith and reverence for the gods of Tibetan religion. The images are mostly of notable figures—gods, monks and the like—surrounded by countless smaller images of their followers and lineage.

We are allowed only a quick run around the rest of the exhibits, as the security guard warns us that it is near closing time. She is quick to assure us that we are welcome back at any time though, listing from memory the opening and closing times of the museum for the coming weekend. We use what little time we have left to listen in on a museum guide’s explanation of a goddess’s escape on a horse. She points out curious details that would be ignored by most normal viewers—the presence of an eye on the horse’s rump, which she explains as being formed when the goddess pulled an arrow from its body, as well as the necklace of heads around the deity’s neck.

Overall, I found the art collection of the Rubin museum to be quite unique. Many of its exhibits were centered upon the theme of Asiatic culture and Buddhist religion, and having come from a Buddhist family myself, I could better appreciate what the museum had to offer. To me, the most interesting exhibit was the one titled Embodying the Holy, which compared Buddhist artwork to their Christian counterparts. Seeing all the similarities between how the two religions were depicted really opened my eyes to the fact that they weren’t as different as I’d always imagined them to be.

I, Eliza Cen, verify that  this entry is my sole work and any inclusion of referenced source materials has been noted accordingly.

After visiting the Rubin Museum of Art, it was clear to see that there were many themes present within the art. To begin, there was the common theme of those who were forced to develop a sense of self, whether it be for the common purpose of personal growth, or due to the fact that these individuals were forced to merge with a new community for the first time. While exploring the artwork, it became clear that as a new freshman, I could relate with those depicted within the art. To offer an explanation, as a new student it is necessary to gradually integrate into the community you will grow to be a part of without necessarily losing all that makes up your individual characteristics. It is true that art embodies those characteristics which makeup an individuals identity, simply because art is an expression of self. After exploring the museum, it was clear to see that pieces of art are based upon fundamental details of the opinions of an individual. An artist creates a piece of art based upon what is beautiful to the author. In other words, in the matter of pieces of art, beauty is based upon the eye of the beholder, which is an outward expression of individual identity.

While observing the bustling main floor of the museum, it seemed as if other individuals were at the museum to experience the same feelings: a sense of self, an overwhelming idea of beauty, and notions of wonder. Experiencing this environment becomes an overpowering awareness of involvement and joy, as if it is possible to relate with those featured in the exhibits, and wonder if they too were forced to come into their own when they were faced with a new chapter in their lives. This idea allowed me to shift to a new idea, asking myself if I was being true to myself while transitioning into a sea of diversity and anonymity, or if I was acting as a mold in order to easily make the progression from a high school student living in Florida, to a college student living in New York City. After thinking over the uncertainty probed by visiting the museum, I came to the realization that throughout the time being at Baruch College I was able to grow into a respectable student, intern, and family member. At this diverse college I was able to successfully develop a sense of self and be happy with the self that I had grown into.

After this trip to the museum, I learned that each and every individual is at one point faced with the challenge of escaping their comfort zone and to face the world in their own skin. I was able to connect with photographs and artwork on display at the Rubin Museum of Art and to experience how art can be part of the transition into developing an understanding of who you are, and what it is you stand for.

I, Ellie Eckert, verify that this entry is my sole work and any inclusion of any referenced source material has been noted accordingly.