Arrived in Chicago: A Visit to The Art Institute Chicago
We arrived in Chicago Yesterday. Today we visited The Art Institute of Chicago for three reasons : see the Fullerton Hall were Swami Vivekananda addressed the Parliament of the World Religions , See Raqib Shaw's 'Paradise Lost ' and also see other works of artists the world over .
The Art Institute of Chicago is one of the oldest and largest art museums in the United States. Founded in 1879 as the Chicago Academy of Fine Arts, it moved to its present building on Michigan Avenue in 1893. The building was constructed as the World's Congress Auxiliary Building for the World's Columbian Exposition, with a grand Beaux Arts design by Shepley Rutan and Coolidge. At its heart lies Fullerton Hall, a magnificent auditorium finished in rich wood and stained glass. On the eleventh of September 1893 it hosted the World's Parliament of Religions, where Swami Vivekananda gave his historic address beginning with Sisters and Brothers of America. Today the hall still hosts lectures and concerts, and the text of his speech is displayed on the Grand Staircase nearby. The museum holds nearly three hundred thousand works ranging from ancient Egyptian artefacts to contemporary painting. Its collection of French Impressionism is world famous, with major holdings of Monet, Renoir and Seurat, including A Sunday on La Grande Jatte.
Among its striking contemporary works is Paradise Lost by Raqib Shaw, a lavish and intricate painting filled with jewel like detail, mythical creatures and opulent vegetation that reflects Shaw's fascination with beauty, excess and decay.
I am standing inside The Art Institute of Chicago today, this eleventh day of September in the year two thousand and twenty six, and my heart is trembling with a kind of reverence that I cannot put into simple words. The light falls softly through the high windows of Fullerton Hall and the air itself feels heavy with memory, with history, with the quiet breath of all those who have walked here before me. Outside the city moves in its usual rhythm, cars passing, people laughing, life continuing, yet inside this sacred hall time seems to have folded upon itself and two centuries are breathing together. The guide inside asks us to observe silence for two minutes as our tribute to all those innocents who lost their lives twenty five years ago. My heart is caught between two moments that refuse to leave me, the 11th of September that has carved itself into the destiny of mankind.
First, it is exactly twenty five years since that dark morning when mad men, driven by blind hatred, attacked humanity itself and brought down the WTC towers, shattered families and left the world bleeding and bewildered. I was not here then, but I have vivid memories of this tragedy as it flashed on television and on electronic media. I can almost hear the sirens, the cries, the desperate phone calls made with love as a final goodbye, the terrible silence that followed when thousands of innocent souls were taken in an instant without mercy. Their faces, their dreams, their unfinished stories still float in the air, and I feel tears welling up because innocence should never have to pay such a heavy price. I stand here and bow my head for every life lost, for every child who waited at a school gate for a parent who never returned, for every mother who still keeps a folded shirt that smells of her son, for every father who still looks at an empty chair, for every firefighter who ran towards death while others ran away, for every heart that still aches with that absence in the quiet hours of the night.
Second, and yet in this very same hall, more than a hundred and thirty three years ago, another voice rose, a voice that still echoes in these walls with astonishing power and infinite tenderness. It was here on the 11th of September, 1893, that Swami Vivekananda, a young monk from distant India with eyes full of fire and a heart full of love and courage, stood before the Parliament of the World's Religions and spoke not of division but of brotherhood, not of hatred but of compassion, not of fear but of universal acceptance. He began with "Sisters and Brothers of America" and in those simple immortal words he melted centuries of prejudice and made an entire audience rise to its feet in thunderous applause and tears of joy. He told the world that all paths are true, that all faiths are different rivers flowing towards the same vast ocean, that holiness and purity and charity are not the exclusive possession of any church, that humanity is one family bound by the same divine love. As I stand on the same wooden floor where his feet once stood, I feel his presence so vividly that my being fills with tears and gratitude. How beautiful and how painful it is that this city, this hall, this sacred space holds both extremes of human possibility within its memory. Every line, every word and every sentence of Swamiji's speech is written and shining gracefully on the Grand Staircase that goes to the art galleries from Fullerton Hall. I felt shy to put my feet on these sacred words as we went up to see works of the French Impressionists and modern American masters like Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko.
Raqib Shaw's Massive work : "Paradise Lost"
Raqib Shaw is a British artist of Kashmiri origin, born in Calcutta in 1974 and raised in the Kashmir Valley. Following political upheaval, he relocated to London where he studied at Central Saint Martins. His practice fuses Mughal and Persian miniature painting, Renaissance altarpiece composition, Japanese print, Kashmiri poetry and Hindu and Western mythological sources into a highly personal allegorical idiom.
His magnum opus, Paradise Lost, 2009 to 2025, is installed at the Art Institute of Chicago from 7 June 2025 to 15 November 2026 in Galleries 141 and 142. The work comprises twenty one panels extending over one hundred feet. Conceived in 1999 and executed over sixteen years, it is presented in four chapters as a continuous autobiographical narrative.
The painting charts a passage from the nocturnal solitude of childhood in the Himalaya through exile, artistic awakening in the West and emotional turmoil toward fragile renewal. Each panel exhibits horror vacui, populated by mythical beasts, anthropomorphic hybrids and collapsing kingdoms. Shaw appears throughout in shifting guises.
Technically the work exemplifies his singular method. He applies industrial enamel with needle fine syringes, manipulating the surface with a porcupine quill to achieve a luminous cloisonne effect enriched by inset stones.
Lakshmi Mittal is not the owner of Paradise Lost. The painting remains in the collection of the artist, Raqib Shaw, as stated by the Art Institute of Chicago. Usha and Lakshmi Mittal are the generous sponsors of the exhibition Raqib Shaw: Paradise Lost at the Art Institute, on view from 7 June 2025 to 19 January 2026. Their patronage is acknowledged in all official materials: "Generous support for Raqib Shaw: Paradise Lost is provided by Usha and Lakshmi Mittal."
The work itself, a twenty one panel painting more than one hundred feet wide executed between 2009 and 2025, is Shaw’s most ambitious and personal project and has never been sold. It is lent by the artist for this first complete presentation of all four chapters.
Interior Miniatures at the Art Institute of Chicago: The Thorne Miniature Rooms
The interior miniatures at the Art Institute of Chicago, known as the Thorne Miniature Rooms, offer a captivating encounter with history in compact form. Created by Narcissa Niblack Thorne, these sixty eight meticulously crafted interiors recreate domestic spaces from medieval chambers to modern living rooms with astonishing fidelity. Each room measures only a few inches, yet contains exquisite furniture, textiles, lighting and artworks rendered at one twelfth scale.
I saw something unique in the attention to proportion and atmosphere, where every tiny chair, rug and candlestick reflects careful research into period style and social custom. Light filters through miniature windows with remarkable subtlety, creating mood and depth. Observing these interiors feels like travelling through centuries, revealing how taste, technology and daily life evolved across Europe and America.
Beyond charm, the collection celebrates craft as cultural memory. It preserves architectural heritage while honouring the skilled artisans who built each element by hand. The rooms remind us that small scale work can evoke profound wonder, encouraging slow looking and imaginative reflection within the galleries of this world class institution. I left inspired by their quiet elegance and enduring ability to transform miniature detail into vast historical narrative for every visitor today here.
Conclusion
My visit to the Art Institute of Chicago proved a profoundly enriching experience that will remain vivid in memory for many years to come. From the luminous Impressionist galleries to the striking modern installations, each room offered thoughtful curation and quiet wonder that invited slow contemplation. I was especially moved by the American collection and the exquisite colour within the works of Seurat and Hopper, where light and mood were rendered with remarkable sensitivity. The highlight for me was encountering Raqib Shaw, whose intricate detail and opulent imagination provided a striking contrast to the surrounding galleries. Experiencing his work near Fullerton Hall added further resonance, as I recalled that this historic hall is linked to Swami Vivekananda, who delivered his celebrated address at the Parliament of Religions held on this site. That spiritual legacy amplified the sense of ceremony and cultural dialogue. The ambiance inside the galleries felt calm and welcoming, allowing art to breathe while guiding visitors with effortless clarity. I left with renewed appreciation for creativity, history and human expression, grateful for such a world class institution in the heart of a remarkable city that educates, inspires and restores curiosity.
Today I also understand with painful clarity that every single day we choose which legacy we will carry forward. Will we be the ones who destroy in the name of belief, or the ones who embrace in the name of love. Will we build walls of suspicion or bridges of understanding. Will we pass on vengeance or pass on wisdom. The tears in our eyes today are not only for the dead of that terrible September morning, they are also tears of overwhelming gratitude for the monk who showed us a better way, a way that still waits patiently for us to walk upon it. I leave this hall with a prayer trembling on my lips, may we never forget the cost of hatred and may we never stop believing in the infinite power of compassion, for only love can truly heal this broken world and only brotherhood can give meaning to our fragile and precious existence on this earth.
(Avtar Mota)
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