I was scared but I fell in love

I was scared—but I fell in love.

Before going to St. Louis, friends warned me that it’s one of the more dangerous cities in the United States. Like many people, I searched “dangerous cities in the US,” and sure enough, St. Louis appeared on most lists. I knew these were just articles, and having been to many places labeled “sketchy,” I figured it would be similar. Still, I was nervous.

I arrived at St. Louis Lambert International Airport (STL) in the morning. As the plane landed, I asked the person next to me about attractions and areas to avoid. She recommended Forest Park and its surrounding areas, and advised to not going north of Delmar Blvd. or downtown after sunset.

I’m not much of a planner when it comes to travel. My only goals were to visit the St. Louis Art Museum (SLAM) and the Gateway Arch—luckily, both were within the safe zone she mentioned.

After renting a car, I headed straight to Forest Park, where SLAM is located. It was still before the museum’s opening hours, so I decided to spend time at Art Hill, the lawn area in front of SLAM. On the way, I was struck by how clean everything looked. (Maybe I’ve gotten too used to New York City’s uncleanness.) I entered the park from the northwest corner, passed the golf course, and parked in the lot west of Art Hill and SLAM. Tall trees and bushes separated the parking lot from Art Hill, with a few entrances leading into the lawn.

As I walked into Art Hill, I felt a strange familiarity. It resembled the landscapes I’ve been painting recently—almost as if fate had drawn me there.

View from West Lot to Art Hill

When the view opened up, I was stunned by its beauty: sunlight shimmering on the fountain, particles of light dancing over water, flowers swaying in the breeze.

When I first visited Central Park, I was amazed by its size and how it transformed with the seasons. But Forest Park, being 500 acres larger and less crowded, felt even more enchanting. There were no stone walls like Central Park, and I didn’t have to breathe cautiously through my nose to avoid unpleasant smells—something you learn to do in New York. I sat on a bench near the West Lot, simply enjoying the moment.

At 10 a.m., I walked up the hill to SLAM. I admire anyone who trains there with a stroller—it’s a steep climb.

If you’ve been to New York museums like the Met or MoMA, you understand why the city is considered the center of contemporary art: the scale, the collections, and the quality. Because of this, I had low expectations for SLAM, especially since St. Louis is in the middle of the U.S..

I was so wrong.

Approaching SLAM, I was reminded of a Greek pantheon—the Beaux-Arts façade is grand and elegant. Compared to the Met, SLAM is less ornate but taller and more spacious. Inside, the vast Sculpture Hall welcomes you. Unlike the Met, SLAM’s staircase descends rather than ascends, and there’s no second floor above the lobby. There was no ticket line either—admission is free, except for their special exhibitions. Couches lined the center of the hall, with gallery entrances on both sides. The day I visited, a large nook area was being installed. I’m still not sure what it was, but I watched as they placed countless glass pieces on the floor before heading to the European section in the left wing.

SLAM’s layout includes:

• 2nd Floor (main entrance level): European, Asian, Drawing, Contemporary, and Special Exhibitions

• 3rd Floor: American and Egyptian art

• 1st Floor: Ancient American, Oceanic, African, and Decorative Arts

I won’t describe every artwork, but I have to say—I loved the museum, especially the contemporary section. New York museums often feel like too much of a tourist attractions, packed with people despite their size. At SLAM, I was alone in a room with massive works by Anselm Kiefer and Gerhard Richter. I’ve seen their art in New York, but never on this scale.

Standing alone, I could finally feel the energy of the pieces. Each gallery had a limited selection, but the works were thoughtfully curated. The introduction panels were informative and helped me understand why each piece was chosen. The spacious layout made me want to read every label.

I ended up staying there for about three hours and the most educational hours I've ever spent in a museum.

Beyond SLAM, I enjoyed a three-hour drive to visit a friend, spent time relaxing at Kaldi’s Coffee, and explored the museum at Washington University in St. Louis—but that’s a story for another journal.

Afterall, I fell in love with the city St. Louis and might move there in the future.

Arch