What Miro's Museum Taught Me About Storytelling in Art

Next week, I'm hosting a monthly in-person storytelling circle in Petaluma at Grand Central Coffee Shop. I'm producing this show with two friends, and one of them invited me to present it to a group of artists she guides through Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way.

I thought, "I can pitch an event about storytelling, or I can tell them a story that would highlight the importance of storytelling in art making." Below is that story.

I speak Spanish, and you might not remember this, but there was a time before these politically charged times when speaking Spanish was thought of as an advantage.

It is still an advantage when you go to Spanish-speaking countries like my wife and I did in 2017 when we visited Barcelona.

We stayed at a beautiful hotel close to Las Ramblas and on the same block as Antoni Gaudí's La Pedrera o Casa Milà.

Because I spoke Spanish, I made friends with the staff. And I'd ask them questions of where to go, not that it mattered.

I had already experienced the climax of my trip at Mercat de la Boqueria. This famous, indoor market has many shops where you can buy food, drinks and trinkets. There I found this... little paper cups you can hold in your hand and they were filled with tiny little chorizo sausages. 
It was like eating heaven in morsels.

What was the point of doing anything else?

I still had four more days in BarZelona, so I guess I could check some other things out.

So I asked our concierge, "Should I check out the Picasso Museum," 
He plainly responded, "Why would you do that? That's something tourists do." Okay. Then, what should I do? 

"You should check Miró's museum."

I had heard of Miró's name, but I didn't know much about him. 
I learned that Joan Miró i Ferrà was a contemporary of Picasso, an impressive and accomplished painter, sculptor, and ceramicist.

More importantly, he was Catalan, and Picasso wasn't, which is of utmost relevance to Catalan.

We took a cab to Plaça d'Espanya, which was built for the World Fair in 1929.

We walked around and found a xiringuito selling Sangria spritzer with a base of red wine and Coca-Cola. Don't get them. They are not good.

Nestled on the far end of the plaza, we found Miró's museum.

The first thing I learned was that Miró was a great impressionist painter. But he was born after this movement, which rendered his masterful technique useless.

So, he had to reinvent himself and connect to the counter-cultural movements of his time.

A few rooms in, and I saw it!

A giant canvas that stood tall and overbearing.

It was probably 20 feet tall by fifteen feet wide.

I struggled to find words to describe it. It was so...

So...

It was so...

As a reminder, I'm hosting a storytelling workshop every Thursday, except the third Thursday of the month, which is when I'm hosting the live storytelling circle. You can catch the workshop on Zoom, Facebook, Instagram or LinkedIn. I’ll send login details on Thursday.