I dont think anything can compare with the experience of the Sistine Chapel. When you walk in and look about and think this is such a small space. I thought it would be huge. Then you see people look up so You look up. And then You duck Your hands reach up automatically because the paintings literally seem to be heavy statues falling from the sky suspended below the ceiling hoovering in the air. The weight of them is palpable. And that was the entire idea. To make the spectator fell the heady weight of the Church bearing down on them. They are beyond paintings. You notice there is some oddness to the great tapestries on the walls and upon closer inspection discover there are no tapestries these are paintings made to look like tapestries to the single threads that make the fringes and ropes. The body of work is beyond imagination. You cannot take pictures because the volume of flashes would destroy the pigment. You may not speak beyond a whisper because the volume of sound and moisture from normal speech will destroy the paintings. You may not scuffle, shuffle or laugh. You are in the belly of art history. You are at the epicenter of The Renaissance and crossroads of the new light of knowledge.
