Reopened museums are a welcome escape

Moments after we arrived at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco on Sunday, Didi lit up and said: “I want to ride the great glass elevator!”

It was the second time we’d come across an elevator since we began sheltering in place in March. A few weeks ago, we’d ridden one at the Westfield San Francisco Centre, which we’d visited to escape the wildfire smoke.

But this one had glass walls! Even in prepandemic times, the museum’s elevator had been a favorite attraction for our boys, and its novelty had only grown in the interim.

“We’ll take it on the way down,” we promised him as we glided up the escalator, reveling in the museum’s reopening. With timed reserved entry ( though you can stay as long as you’d like), attendance limited to 25 percent of total capacity, sanitizing stations, plexiglass shields at the front desk, social distancing, and staff and visitors in face coverings, we felt safe venturing inside.

We’ve been taking Didi and Gege to museums ever since they were infants in strollers. Our modus operandi hasn’t changed as they get older: striding through the galleries, pausing at whatever catches our interest. We hope our boys feel as comfortable in a museum as they would in a playground — even if we must remind them from time to time that they can’t dart around a sculpture as they would a jungle gym.

The art they see connects them to different places, eras and aesthetics, as well as to the possibilities of the wider world, which feels vital when so much remains limited. This time, we asked them to pick their favorite exhibit.

Gege voted for the “gun sword,” an Indonesian dagger, with a curved wooden handle that had the look of a firearm. Didi lingered by one of the museum’s oldest and mostfamed pieces, titled “Ritual Vessel in the Shape of a Rhinoceros,” a bronze bowl from 1100 B. C., showing a rhino whose alert eyes and ears are endearing to royalty and 9yearold boys alike. My husband and I could relate to the manyarmed bodhisattva statues — we wish we were similarly outfitted for the multitasking feats we attempt each day.

After taking a thrill ride down the glass elevator, we made our way to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, which also recently reopened to the general public. Its elevators featured “NanoSeptic SelfCleaning Buttons” whose surfaces purport to oxidize and break down organic contaminants. A museum spokeswoman confirmed the technology had been installed as a safety precaution. Even still, we used our elbows to summon our ride.

We zipped through the galleries, including the “German Art After 1960” exhibit with largescale, layered paintings that reminded us of how puny and flattened pieces can seem when viewed online.

Didi lingered by Tony Cragg’s “Runner,” found plastic fragments mounted on the wall. “He made art out of trash,” I said.

In the wreckage of 2020 thus far, the artwork reminded me how artists — and how all of us — can reimagine what might rise from the ashes.

With Bay Area museums reopening, I appreciated a return to normalcy as so much uncertainty still dictates our lives. School rhythms have been upended; wildfire danger and drifting smoke wreak havoc on plans, and the campaign season turned even more chaotic when the coronavirus infected President Trump and many in his inner circle.

Then there’s Halloween. We’ve ordered their costumes — Didi will be a mad scientist and Gege will don a Sonic the Hedgehog ensemble — but how to celebrate this beloved holiday safely remains up in the air.

I’ve already settled on one idea, though — I just reserved a visit that day to the de Young Museum. See you there in costume!

School rhythms have been upended; wildfire danger and drifting smoke wreak havoc on plans.