ann fisher-wirth

A print of Masaccio's powerful, disturbing "Adam and Eve" hangs on the walls of the bedroom I share with my husband Peter; it is one of his favorite paintings, and I've often lain in bed and looked at it, moved by their visible suffering yet also by the visible bond between them.  Two summers ago, I spent hours in front of Monet's "Les Nymphéas, 1916/1919" at the Marmottan in Paris, falling deeper and deeper into its beauty.  Painted during World War I, it helps me think about the possible meaning of art in our own disastrous times.