I have never considered myself artistic, nor have I ever claimed to fully understand art. I always believed that each person that views a piece of artwork would see and interpret the piece differently than the person next to them. However, I sometimes feel lost and even wrong when looking at certain artworks because my interpretation differs from that of the majority of the people who have also seen the art.
After reading the required sections of Berger and Barnet’s writing, I realized how silly I was for thinking that. For example, based on the circumstances of which a painting is seen, say, in a photograph or in person, the beauty of the art would be altered and some aspects of the actual piece would be missing because a photograph would not be able to capture the essence of the painting compared to if you were to see it in person. Barnet writes, “The color of images, reproduction in books, and images on the World Wide Web range from pretty accurate to very poor.” This applies to how I will view the Modern Art exhibition because I will be more detail-oriented in examining the texture, color, placement and objects within the piece. I also really like the line from the first chapter of Ways of Seeing that says, “The visual arts have always existed within a certain preserve; originally this preserve was magical or sacred. But it was always physical: it was the place, the cave, the building, in which, or for which, the work was made.” (pg. 32) It reminds me to think not only about the present work but also about the origin of the piece, the artist that created the piece and the time period during which it was made.
Both writers teach us through their text to analyze and interpret art from different angles. When I go to visit the MOMA for the Modern Art Exhibit, I will look through the exhibit and formally analyze them for their structure and components, just like Beer did in his analysis of Prince Khunera as a Scribe.
My Blog B — The Experience I Had At the MoMA,
Winnie,
I am responding to your post because I, too, never understood art and I always had the mindset that I was wrong when it came to looking at and analyzing art. I actually am not a museum person, but I love underground/sometimes illegal art – I find creative graffiti cool. But do I understand it? No. Do other people claim to understand the hidden meaning behind what the graffiti artist drew? For sure. So I can relate to your feeling of wrongness when looking at and analyzing art.
When I used to go to museums – for school trips or because family forced me to, I also never thought about the origin of the piece, the story behind the piece, and the personality of the artist who composed said work. Knowing these things brings context to the piece and makes it much more interesting and fun to look at. Because I rarely went to museums, I would see art in photographs, reproductions, on postcards, etc. I like that you chose that quote from Barnet regarding photos and how they can distort the actual piece. You’re right for choosing that quote, and Barnet is right for coming up with that quote. Photos remove the “sacred(ness)… and texture.” Yes, the objects in play are the same, but you lose the opportunity to see the art up close and you miss the chance to see the full effect.
I went to the MoMA today and kept in mind (albeit, not reading your post first) the quotes and ideas you expressed in your blog post. My mindset was very similar to yours.
The two main art pieces I focused on were titled, Vir Heroicus Sublimis (Barnett Newman) and Glass, Guitar, and Bottle (Pablo Picasso). These two works of art fit the photograph description/problem so accurately. Newman’s piece from far away (which is what it would look like in a photograph – simply because it’s too big to get close to and still take a full photo of) looks like a wide red rectangle with a line or two painted on it on both sides. It’s looks like one of those, “I could do that” type of pieces. But as I got closer, I noticed some things. The red wasn’t just put on like a wallpaper would be; it was hand painted, some spots rougher than others, some spots blotchy, some splotches a bit off-color. It actually added a lot to the art because I could see and appreciate the work that went into it, unlike a photograph that would totally underplay the creativity and beauty.
Picasso’s piece was totally different from Newman’s. From far away it looked like a hodgepodge of lines and pieces of construction paper thrown onto a small frame by a blindfolded man that couldn’t make a decision as what the piece would be about. That’s what a photo would make the looker think too. It happened to me – it would happen to others. But as I approached it, I saw that there were actually strings of a guitar (not a whole guitar, though), an oddly shaped bottle, and shards of glass throughout the piece. It suddenly became very trippy, cool, and extremely fun to look at. I saw the art for what it was worth, in the flesh, rather than being confused by what a photo would show me.
So, going to the MoMA with the photo idea in mind, I learned that getting up and close to the art makes such a huge difference in the experience. I had fun there, and that’s something I never thought I would say in the same sentence as “museum.”