Indianapolis Museum of Art Blog

My last day at the IMA did nothing for my stomach.

After a few last minute tasks in the morning, Meg, my internship mentor for the summer, and I strolled over to our escape vehicle from the great indoors. A single key, a nine-person van and one destination: MUG n’ BUN Drive-in.

Most of the Marketing department decided to join us on our journey to Indianapolis’s west side. Some were hoping to relive memories of root beer and corn dogs, and others, like myself, to experience the glory of this drive-in for the first time. We were a sight to behold in our office regalia. We scarfed down the mountain of delicious food before us: Chocolate malts, fries, root beer, burgers, coney dogs, corn dogs and cole slaw. All morsels of an afternoon at MUG n’ BUN. Read the rest of this entry »

It seemed like a good idea at the time. When I was first approached about being one of four contributing writers to a history of the first 125 years of the Indianapolis Museum of Art, I didn’t hesitate to sign on. After all, I’d already been one of three co-authors of The Herron Chronicle, a history of the Herron School of Art (released in 2002), and the author of For the Sake of Art, a history of the Indianapolis Art Center (released in 1999). And before resigning in April 2007, I had spent 10 years as the visual arts writer for The Indianapolis Star—covering the IMA had been one of my primary responsibilities.

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…Perennial Treasures from the Gardens of the Indianapolis Museum of Art.

Picture this. Ancient Egypt. Cleopatra’s palace gardens.

“Mark Antony, did you tell the slaves to weed the iris bed?”

“No dear. I thought you were doing that with the gardener.”

“Really Mark Antony, you do amaze me. Do you not remember I had the gardener executed last month for using up all of my eye liner? If you didn’t tell the slaves to weed then what happened to my special iris?”

“What do you mean Cleopatra?”

“I mean my Siberian irises are gone.”

“Which ones were they?”

“You know fully well which ones they were. My Iris sibirica ‘Caesar’s Brother’. Your petty jealous heart just couldn’t bear I would be taking them with me when I die.”

“Alright Cleopatra! Alright. It’s true. I ripped them from the ground. Just like I have tried to rip that Caesar from your heart.”

“Nice try Mark Antony. But like my love for Caesar, the iris cannot be killed by a mere human. Both will be with me in the great beyond.”

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Author (and goalkeeper), Albert Camus, wrote - “All that I know most surely about morality and obligations, I owe to football.”

I also owe a lot to football and it’s something I’m always willing to discuss, play or watch. It’s even more appropriate to discuss today and even into the summer. In a matter of hours, over in Moscow, the Champions League Final kicks off featuring an all-English match up of Chelsea FC and Manchester United FC (I’m rooting for Man U). In a matter of a few weeks (17 days to be exact), the European Championships begin, sadly without England, but I’ll be rooting for the Orange Crush (that would be the Dutch National Team) and glued to every game I can catch on TV.
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Is anyone else thinking of Kurt Vonnegut today? I am. You probably know why.

I picked up a copy of Breakfast of Champions many, many, many years ago. I read it on a train traveling across Europe – drinking wine, meeting new people and exploring cities. It made me feel far away from Indianapolis and in a way, it felt good. He was unlike any author I had ever read.

Imagine my surprise when I learned that Kurt Vonnegut was from Indianapolis. From that point on, I took immense pride in associating Indianapolis with Kurt Vonnegut. Indiana can stake claim to some pretty famous people – Steve McQueen, James Dean, Florence Henderson….but come on, Kurt Vonnegut! Pretty cool.

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