26 • LEGACY
BY JAMIE HENDERSON
A
uguste Renoir once said that “art is about emotion; if art needs to be explained it is no longer art.” If you ask me, Renoir really gets it. As an impressionist, he obviously knows how to make a good one. His brushstrokes are so careful and so wild, his details are so sharp and so soft . . . His art captures something so elusive yet so familiar; I am genuinely in awe of his talent. The first time I saw In the Meadow by Renoir, it was a chilly March morning in New York City, and I was
exploring the Metropolitan Museum of Art with my best friend Emily. It was her eighteenth birthday, and we had skipped out on school that Thursday and Friday to take the cheapest flight to Newark, New Jersey, followed by the cheapest train into the city. It was one of the best trips I’ve ever taken, and the funny thing is that I wasn’t even supposed to be there. The second tickets to all the places we visited were originally reserved for Emily’s boyfriend, who had broken up with her only a week before the big birthday
