After reading the writings of Berger and Barnett, I believe that I had a better experience when I visited the MoMA this past Tuesday because the writings not only told me what to look for in paintings and how to look at them, but also that there are more ways than one to look at a painting, giving me the confidence to think of my own interpretation, rather than asking someone else for their interpretation or looking an expert’s thoughts up online.

Although there were so many amazing works of art at the Museum of Modern Art, the two that I have selected to analyze are Robert Rauschenberg’s Rebus, because it was the most intriguing painting at the museum and also my personal favorite, and Max Beckmann’s Departure, because it was the German Expressionist painting that stood out to me the most.

Robert Rauschenberg’s “Rebus”

Max Beckmann’s “Departure”

(John Wetmore, Blog A)

Surrealism was an artistic movement that delved into the unconscious and expressed things that weren’t commonly seen in paintings during the more traditional artistic periods that preceded it. Knowing this prior to my trip to MoMA, I had no idea of what to expect from the works of art that I would see.  In my experience, most of the time the creations that I’d seen in museums hadn’t made much sense anyway. So my question even before my visit was, what would make these surrealist works of art any different just because they claimed to be psychological and not just “abstract” and illogical?

After reflecting on all of the surrealist paintings and sculptures that I saw, one of them stuck out to me. All of the paintings were very unusual but through all of the abstract ideas and images, there was only one that really stood out to me as what I think surrealism is. Nothing was clear and even though it was apparent that there were different concepts and intentions present in the painting, they all seemed to blur together just as thoughts do in your mind. In my opinion this painting embodied its artistic movement. It seemed to pinpoint all of the ideas that surrealism represented.

The name of the painting is “The Vertigo of Eros” by Roberto Matta (1944). From one perspective it looks like nothing, just shapes, lines and shadings all combined into one piece of “art”, similar to most of the other paintings I saw of this period. However, when I took a second look at the painting as a whole and not just as the ambiguous figures floating in space I realized that this painting was actually what I would expect the inside of an artist’s mind to look like. The more I looked at it the more I felt as if I were standing in the unconscious of Matta himself. Coincidentally I later found out that this was a painting that Matta called an Inscape, which in his words was the “interior landscape of the artist’s mind interconnected with his external reality”. It was captivating how he had recreated an internal vision through a medium as simple as paint and a canvas and that even though it was his interpretation I could almost see the world he was trying to express.

The second piece that I chose was from a period called Dadaism. It was one of the artistic movements that almost directly preceded surrealism and had a great influence on its formation. One of the main things that separate Dadaism and Surrealism is their intention. Dadaism purposely strived to go against tradition while Surrealism was supposed to be an honest expression of what the artists felt subconsciously. Even though it did break the conventional rules of art, it wasn’t intentional. The name of the second painting I chose was M’Amenez-y or in English “Take Me There” by Francis Picabia. The reason I chose this was because of its bold and deliberate effort to go against the grain. The words painted into it literally made fun of artists and art itself. I thought it was interesting to see the progression from works like this to that of Roberto Matta and the other surrealists.

Reading Berger and Barnett did change my experience at the museum the way I thought it would. I appreciated seeing the original works and made myself more open to think about more than the typical assumptions made about things labeled as art. One of the most important things I realized was that even the most aesthetically pleasing things are just shapes, lines and colors so its up to the people enjoying the art to find beauty and meaning in it even if its not what you would normal conceive as beautiful.  “Works of art have nothing to say except what we say to them.” (James Elkins)

-Yasmin Jones

In my previous post about my pre-MOMA thoughts and ideas, I wrote about how Berger and Barnet teach us to examine art from more than one perspective. I wrote about how, at the MOMA, I would look at not only the art’s subjects but also at the structure of the piece as well, as the story of the artist behind the artwork.

To be honest, I had not visited an art gallery or art museum since middle school and frankly, I do not find much excitement in visiting art exhibitions. For the purpose of this class and assignment however, I put away those thoughts and entered the MOMA with a genuine curiosity for seeing the exhibitions because I wanted to know if Berger and Barnet’s writings would actually change the way I view art. After reading through my research about Impressionism (its time period and the artists who were associated with the movement) I felt like I had a pretty good idea of what type of pieces I needed to focus on when I got to the MOMA – paintings with brighter colors, shorter strokes, unblended colors, and more depictions of the rural and suburban landscapes.

When I arrived to the 5th floor of the museum, I was greeted by wall that was covered by the Campbell’s Soup Art that stood at the entrance of the Café. I then noticed, as I stood in front of the Campbell’s Soup, that to my left, there was a painting that must have been as long as me that was hanging on the empty white wall by the elevators. I knew then and there, before I had even looked at anything else, that the painting would stand out to me and that I would choose that piece to analyze. That painting there was Hide-and-Seek by Pavel Tchelitchew, created in 1940-1942. The other painting that I chose to analyze was Evening, Honfleur, painted by Georges-Pierre Seurat in 1886.

For each piece that I looked at, I purposely chose not to look at the description for the artwork until I had analyzed it and had come up with a story for the work myself. I did this so I would look at the painting in itself since “painting are reproduced with words around them”, as Berger says in his Ways of Seeing. Words that came to my mind when I stood back from the Hide-and-Seek painting all had dark connotations, like hellish, fire, burning, children, horror story, ghostly, distorted, twisted, helpless. Something about the juxtaposition of the bright yellows, oranges and greens against the sullen browns, moldy greens and bloody reds prompted me to walk closer to the painting and examine each of the colors in detail. When I closed my distance from the piece, I noticed images that I previously was not able to see. In the “leaves” and branches of the tree, there were numerous faded faces of children; from the thinner branches, it appears as if a colony of babies were climbing from the blur of leaves, into the mist of the lighter blue background. In the veins of one child’s face, there was a faint dandelion that served as a pedestal for another child. In the mud-colored trunk, by the girl who seemed to be clinging on to the base of the tree, I spotted the fingers of another child, which were defined by a mix of pale green, blue, red and orange. After reading the description about how the painting “presents an apocalyptic vision of the childhood game of Hide-and-Seek during World War II”, I thought back about Berger’s line; he was right, my interpretation and analysis fit the description and purpose of the piece, but knowing that the painting depicted the time of World War II opened up my understanding of the piece so much more.

In Evening, Honfleur, the colors used were completely different from those of Hide-and-Seek. The scene shown was a lot more calm, relaxed, dreamy and soothing. What amazed me about this painting was how Seurat put together the piece. He must have used millions of little dots in both the actual painting and the frame itself. Rather than thinking about the scene depicted, I actually thought more about Seurat and the time he spent on creating the piece; I could imagine him sitting at his desk carefully placing the specks of color onto the empty canvas. Standing up close, I noticed the different textures of paint strokes and how you could tell which parts of the piece he painted first because some dots were thicker from the heavier clumps of paint than the others. Up close, you could also see the pattern of yellow, orange, blue and white in the sky that seemed to just be light blue from afar.

My reading of Barnet and Berger’s writings definitely affected my viewing of the MOMA exhibition. I allowed myself to look at the pieces of artworks from a few distances to see them from different angles because I’ve learned that analyzing the picture from ten feet away and analyzing a small section of the piece from a few inches away changes the entire feel of the artwork. I chose these two pieces because of their perfect fit to the descriptions and because they both held so many details that would be hidden if you only looked at them from afar. After my trip to the MOMA, I realized that my “non-existing” understandings for paintings and sculptures actually did exist – it was a matter of learning to think beyond the painting itself that allowed me to better interpret and appreciate art.

-Winnie Yu (Blog A)

In my pre-MoMA post regarding the Berger and Barnet readings I discussed how the authors were challenging us as individuals to find ourselves within each piece of art we observe. I was obviously not expecting my artistic life–or lack thereof–to be overturned by this seeming “call to arms” presented by Berger and Barnet, but I was disappointed that my actual experience did not quite match up to my expectations. I have always personally felt that I have the ability to develop and cultivate a genuine interest in almost anything regardless of its discipline–art, history, mathematics, science, or otherwise. Yet this ability is in some ways a double-edged sword. To become so wholeheartedly enthusiastic about something previously unknown often requires adopting the view of others with greater experience and knowledge of the subject. Although my hope is that I will in turn use these views as a springboard for developing my own, it is sometimes the case that I never get the chance. These other views become my own before I even have the opportunity to distinguish between my own thoughts and those that have been influenced by others. But, to return to the discussion at hand, the main issue with this lies in the dissonance that can result when established ideas clash with gut feeling.

I wrote in my previous post of how my primary concern when it comes to viewing art is that it is sometimes difficult to reconcile my ideas on a piece with the responses the piece elicits from others. Despite Berger and Barnet’s warnings against this type of thinking and despite the fact that I really did try my best to go to the museum with their words in mind, I couldn’t help but feel that dissonance in my thoughts regarding expectations versus reality. Because I had done previous research on Surrealism (my assigned art movement), my thoughts had been shaped to expect artwork that was blatantly shocking and a clear subversion of convention and tradition. Perhaps it is because Surrealism is in itself such a complex, convoluted art movement that I found myself struggling with so many pieces in the exhibition. Particularly in the sculpture and “object art” sections of the Surrealism gallery, I could see absolutely no semblance of the subconscious release or dream-like psychosexual forces that Surrealists are so well-known for. It seemed to me almost presumptuous that these artists could make pieces like this and expect us as an audience to accept them without second thought.

This train of thought led me back to the Berger and Barnet readings and our discussions in class about what constitutes a work of art. Going to the MoMA and viewing these pieces made me realize that many of these works were rendered either as a social commentary, as a statement against social convention, or just to make the audience think and/or ask questions. Perhaps a work of art can be anything that raises eyebrows and questions, but that is still accepted for its value–whether it is artistic, social, monetary.

All this being said, however, I was pleased to find that Berger and Barnet still had some influence on my viewing of art on a humanistic level. The readings had made me aware that each work of art should be viewed as more than just the physical object taking up space in a museum, but also as a representation of a particular moment in an artist’s life. Each work of art, no matter how large or small, mattered to someone at some point in time when it was being made. This understanding allowed me to approach the artwork from a more anthropological standpoint, viewing each piece as a testament to the power of human dedication and conviction. I noticed brushstrokes and textures, layers of material, the painstaking attention each artist had placed on a detail that most would probably just ignore on a passing glance. I noticed these aspects and I gained an immense respect for the artists who devote their time and their lives to this medium of expression.

The two works I chose to analyze are The Empire of Light, II (1950) by René Magritte and Water Lilies (1914-25) by Claude Monet. Magritte is a Surrealist painter and Monet an Impressionist, but what led me to choose these two pieces is that their initial differences give way to certain striking similarities. The Magritte painting stood out to me among the various Surrealist pieces because of its simplicity. The Surrealism gallery was full of strange, wild, extravagant shapes and colors, but the Magritte made an impression because of its more subtle coloration and the fact that, on the surface, it looked quite normal hanging on a wall next to works by Breton and Miro. It is a fascinating painting, one that takes a moment to fully grasp the significance of. Empire of Light works as a Surrealist painting because it doesn’t make any sense. It pictures a cloud-filled, beautiful blue sky above, but below is a quiet, empty street cloaked in shadows save for a lone streetlamp glowing faintly in the darkness. It almost seems as if Magritte took two halves of completely different paintings and juxtaposed them to make one image. And it is this quality, this impression that the painting makes on the viewer, that made me pick the Monet piece for comparison. As the name of his art movement implies, Monet created Water Lilies for the purpose of making an impression on his audience. I have always been a huge fan of Monet’s work so it was an easy choice for me to pick his piece, but when comparing it to Magritte’s I realized that, in some ways, Monet’s painting also works because it shouldn’t make sense. He overlaid splashes of color, blurred textures and images, and created a gigantic piece that, in all honesty, should look like nothing but a mess. But, like all Impressionists, the piece works because it evokes an overall emotion and imprints an image in our minds–that of a beautiful lily-filled pond. Impressionists and Surrealists were both considered radicals of their times, demonstrating a clear break from artistic tradition, and although Magritte and Monet differ in their methodology and execution, their pieces are both impressionistic and shocking in their own ways. It is for this reason that I chose to compare these two pieces because it is also the reason why I think we discuss art in the first place. Art evokes an emotion in us and thus we respond.

–Norine Chan

The Berger and Barnet readings did not necessarily change how I look at art, but rather refocused my thoughts and reassured me of my beliefs. I have learned a lot from both readings, but the ideas were not new to me, rather, Barnet and Berger were able to put into words ideas that once seemed nebulous to me – almost like 2 pieces of art.

Of these two pieces of art however, I preferred the Barnet reading far more. It was the one that I was able to take coherent notes on. I believe Barnet followed her own advice in that she was able to present herself as a person who is fair, informed and worth listening to. She presented her points in a very clear, constructed way and backed them up with concrete examples. Following Berger’s writing, on the other hand, was like reading a philosophical text and more of a personal statement, I felt as if I was getting to know Berger more so than getting to know how to look at art.

Barnet begins by talking about the institutional theory of art, and then proceeds to mention “Fountain” by Duchamp – epitomizing the theory. It was the first time I fully understood the profundity of Duchamp’s work, and I have taken an art appreciation class. Art really is anything, although certain types of art aim for different goals.

Another thing I learned about art is that you can look at anything in a multitude of perspectives, a very many different ways of seeing. For example, I learned that different art has different goals, and different statements they are trying to make, while at the same time it is up to the viewer himself to come up with the “statement” the art piece is coming to make. I have learned that your natural reaction towards a painting has a lot of merit and within that reaction there are many things to be discovered, while on the other hand, the initial reaction to the art piece is not enough to fully appreciate it. I learned why I should write about art. “Until one tries to write about it, the work of art remains a sort of aesthetic blur … After seeing the work, write about it. You cannot be satisfied for very long in simply putting down what you felt. You have to go further.” Tangentially to this point, you should try to understand and think about the art using any “critical thinking” type approach, such as writing, but it could be drawing or just thinking about art, so long as the activity furthers your initial reactions and deepens your understanding in some way.

I learned that you have to be confident in your feelings, in the sense that your feelings are correct – or rather, they aren’t incorrect, they can’t be incorrect. You are having a particular response or thought to a particular painting precisely because it is what you think. You don’t even have to do any work, or any more work – you have already put in the work over the course of your life, it is the you that has been built over the entirety of your life, the subconscious you that provides you with that initial gut feeling.

To touch upon the ‘multitude of perspectives’ again, you have to have both the perspective of being confident in your emotions and unconfident in your emotions; you have to be willing to say that you didn’t understand everything at once because you most likely won’t, you most likely can’t. Picasso thought, “A painting is not thought out and settled beforehand. While it is being done it changes as one’s thoughts change. And when it is finished it still goes on changing, according to the state of mind of whoever is looking at it”. If the painting itself is changing, your opinions should change with it – a certain reciprocity exists, both causing and resulting in the other’s existence.

The “subconscious you” gives you the gut feeling. While it is true that the initial gut feeling is there, it is not enough to simply “feel” the feeling, not because the book says so but because the reasoning the book gives is very poignant, and I have already quoted it – “Until one tries to write (critically think) about it the work of art remains a sort of aesthetic blur …you have to go further.” And you have to go further because there is so much further to go. There is a wealth of discovery about yourself, your culture, your thoughts, the thoughts of those around you, about the way people interact with one another, about the way people interact with you, about anything and everything. And the most amazing part is it all comes back to one centralized point – usually – and usually that centralized point is you. You are the focal point of all art – and that is not said with any hubris or self-satisfaction, all people are the focal point of art, in their own way of seeing, and yet nobody is at the focal point of art – and now we are back to the idea that there is always a different perspective to have.

I learned that even though I am not a trained art historian that does not mean that I cannot appreciate the art and that I can’t come to conclusions of my own about the art piece that, at the very least, carry weight to myself.

I also learned about a bunch of other stuff, stuff that probably carries equal importance, and when seen in the right way, might carry more importance than what I have chosen to write about. Stuff such as how the oil paintings of the 15-19th century were really a way for the rich to possess the world around them; stuff such as the large gap between the masters and novices in oil painting – signifying that oil painting requires a very high level of mastery; stuff like reproduction and the advent of cameras – changing the landscape and perspective of the art world forever. But this stuff was not memorable enough to write about. I suppose that is my way of seeing, looking at things as they relate to me.

Before reading The Ways of Seeing and A Short Guide to Writing About Art, the idea of going to a museum voluntarily to look at art on the walls was of no interest to me whatsoever.  The only times I went to museums were for school projects, where I was forced to look at pieces and jot down as many notes as I could as we moved throughout the rooms.  I hated it.  I gained nothing from it because a) I was young and b) the purpose of my visit was to take notes, not to admire the art, as Berger’s and Barnet’s books wish we all would do.

What I found most interesting in both readings is how everyone sees art differently and how context matters.  Art is really like ink blots – you see it, and you think about what you see.  Everyone sees different meanings, different beauty in the strokes, different color patterns – anything.  Some of this changes, though, when given context.  Berger talked about an interesting topic: context.  He mentions that when a painting suddenly has text, or is around other paintings depicting similar things, the image you look at suddenly changes and can transform in meaning in your mind.  I understand this.  It’s like posting a picture to Facebook without saying where you are and what you’re doing.  Anyone looking at the picture would think “oh she is at a concert” or “oh she is in central park” etc.  Context gives meaning to art.

I’m weird when it comes to visual art.  I am a huge fan of Banksy and Space Invader, both visual artists.  What they do, in my eyes, is genius, and so well thought out.  I love looking at their work and breaking them down and thinking about what they are trying to say (Banksy, especially, has A LOT to say all the time!).  I have just never found the same love for the fine arts.  Hopefully these two reads will allow me to feel the same emotions towards the new art I will see as I feel from the aforementioned artists.

In the reading, I also learned something so obvious, but something that most people probably do not think about.  Berger says, “Original paintings are silent and still in a sense that information never is.”  He mentions how reproductions lose a lot of the original beauty because it’s harder to break down the image piece by piece and truly examine it.  It can also, unfortunately, end up on mugs, posters, t-shirts etc. – the meaning can be so washed away that the art just loses all meaning.  Going to the museum and seeing real paintings in the flesh could change my entire perspective (Berger was big on perspective) of various art works I see.

Thinking about Berger’s and Barnet’s opinions and suggestions, I think my trip to the MoMA will be much more meaningful to me.  I will hopefully see art in a different way and I’ll spend time looking at pieces and mentally breaking them down to try and determine the author’s intentions and to appreciate the amount of time and effort that went into the work of art.  Although, seeing with an innocent eye is very hard, since Barnet brought up the idea of a constructionist view (which is certainly how I react to art), I can go in being aware of the right way to look at art.  Will I be able to? I don’t know.  But I am enlightened on the topic now so I will try my best.  Rather than going as a huge school group, I will have time to appreciate and admire what I see and this will ultimately make my visit more productive and pleasurable.

Prior to reading The Ways of Seeing, John Berger, and the Barnet reading, going to a museum and analyzing works of art weren’t of any particular interest to me. I couldn’t get past the point that anything that I could see in a museum I could see in picture online or in a book from any library. In my eyes, going to a museum always had led me to the daunting task of interpreting a work of art that frankly had no meaning to me or in the worst case, a work that didn’t even qualify as art in my mind. Why would a man spend days, or weeks, even years painting things that as I see it, were either ordinary moments in time that needed no explanation or on the opposite end of the scale, illustrations so abstract and unrealistic that they didn’t even make sense? I looked at paintings and other mediums in regards to the beauty it possessed and had a very shallow perspective on what really made the difference between a piece that was bad, average or excellent.

Reflecting on the required reading has not only left me questioning whether or not any piece of art can be judged as good or bad, but it has also given me a greater understanding on how to extract different meanings from something that can densely appear to mean nothing. Being aware that different works were meant to be seen in different settings, that they have different contexts and backgrounds and that they are not just things full of mystery, leaves me more inclined to desire a trip to the museum and everything that it has to offer.

The reading has also given me more insight on the reason why many people, as I previously did, don’t find an interest or even relevance in the works of museums. It’s effortless to forget the importance of an original piece that can only be seen in particular settings. While on the surface it seems that one can perceive the same value and meaning from a photograph or reproduction, the readings have helped me to appreciate my future experience at MOMA because I know now that even if I have seen a piece before, given the new context, the information about it presented to me and the new quality, which would be impossible for any reproduction to have, my impression of the painting or sculpture will undoubtedly change.

Art gives you power and is not just for the “cultural hierarchy of relic specialists but for all of the people in a society”. Through attempting to find meaning in it we can begin “the experience of seeking to give meaning to our lives, of trying to understand the history of which we can become the active agents”. Maybe the point of art is not beauty but to help the people of a civilization understand the different perspectives of the past in a way that reading from a textbook cannot. Thinking and reflecting upon these concepts, make going to MOMA more of an exploration than a homework assignment and will make my time there more interesting and ultimately more productive.

The MOMA, the Museum of Modern Art, is a self-proclaimed collection of modern works of art. Yet what does this very title (and consequent institution) convey to us, the viewers, about what modern art is? The name of the museum already impresses upon us the idea that the works it houses are of relevance in today’s world, or at least were produced in a recent time. Furthermore, it suggests that the selections on display are, in fact, art. The authority of such an institution of art in making these claims is something to be critical of. Not in a cynical way, but rather in an analytical way. We must decide for ourselves what we consider is relevant, or meaningful, or simply what is even art. In most cases, the works in the museum will prove to be significant in one way or another. Yet we should make this judgment for ourselves, and not assume this simply because it is in a well-renowned art museum.

What I have learned from “Ways of Seeing” by John Berger and “A Short Guide to Writing About Art” by Sylva Barnet suggests that this setting itself poses challenges and insights into how we may view these works of art.

Barnet suggests that museums decontextualize art (p.30) by removing works of art from their original settings (p.30). While galleries may isolate a piece to allow a clearer viewing, it may deprive the piece of some of its meaning. Thus, when I view the exhibitions at the MOMA, I will strive to look deeper into the piece as a part of culture, and society. Perhaps by reading the description or other material I will be able to further understand the piece as it may have meant to be. However, Berger brings up the possibility that captions or other writing that accompanies art may shape our understanding of the piece (p.28).

Using an example in the book by presenting an image with and without a caption, Berger makes a point about how “the image now illustrates the sentence” (p.28). As the setting for these works will be in an art museum, it is likely that the caption may be biased in its perspective as being part of an art collection rather than a setting the work may originally have been intended to be in. Or, the accompanying text may send subliminal messages that are conveying ideas about power and modern society. Berger noted that “. . . art makes inequality seem noble and hierarchies seem thrilling. . .” (p.29).

Aside from the setting of the art pieces, Berger and Barnet’s texts have also influenced the way I plan on viewing the exhibitions at the MOMA by making me attune to the significance of all the decisions the artist made in making the work of art. From the choice of material to the subject matter to the specific details included. Through this analytical observation, one is able to look past the work as an aesthetic piece, and as a reflection of not only the historical time period, but also of the individual artist’s life (which may provide some insight into the cultural attitudes of the time). In this way, we can for ourselves judge the value of a piece for ourselves based on its insights into what we consider to be important (i.e. insights on cultural attitudes, historical accuracies), and not so much on the market value of the piece which is already implied by its position in the MOMA. Berger provides an example of how one may go about this process by illustrating the process of “mystification” (p.15).

He brings up Hals, “a destitute old painter who has lost his reputation and lives off public charity” (p.16). Hals’ paintings of the Governors and the Governesses of an Alms House is analyzed not so much through an aesthetic lens, but through an anthropological lens. Berger notes how the painting may be distorted due to the relationship between the sitters and the painter. Thus, in viewing works at the MOMA, it will be insightful to consider what aesthetic choices suggest about the artist, society, and culture at the time. In viewing artwork in this way, we can relive that period of time. Through this vicarious experience, we can better understand the rhetorical argument made by the artist and appreciate the art as an insight into humanity rather than just an aesthetic work.

While reading Ways of Seeing by John Berger and A Short Guide to Writing About Art by Sylva Barnet, many key concepts to consider while viewing art became clear to me.  A few in particular that stood out to me were the ideas about perspective, what makes art truly art, and how to write about art.  There are various ways which I will apply these thoughts while viewing the Modern Art exhibition at MOMA.

The first concept that really made me stop and think about what I was reading was Berger’s explanation of perspective.  Specifically, how one’s perspective alters what they see while viewing art, as well as what they think of it.  As someone who is unfamiliar with art, my perspective will obviously be very different from those who have more experience with the arts.  However, after reading more about this idea, I decided that I must always keep an open mind when I am looking at new or different types of art, and leave behind any preconceived notions that I may have.  I will try my best to do this when viewing the Modern Art exhibition, so as to appreciate what I am seeing and think about its significance.  In addition to this, being open minded will allow the art to “explain in a new way the world unknown to [me]” (Berger 17).  I believe that one of the keys to viewing art for me will be to try to look at it from multiple perspectives, and not to let my own narrow view impact my experience.

Another concept which became clear to me was the question of what defines art.  Barnet wrote in depth about this, and it made me think a lot about the different theories that have been presented.  The Institutional Theory of art is that anything that artists or the public say is art, is in fact art.  This struck me as a very broad definition, and one thing that I’d like to focus on while viewing art is to determine what makes something art to me.  Also, I will think about what made the curator of the museum choose to display it.  Is it because of the artist?  Is it because the public thinks of it as art?  Or does it hold some other historic significance?  All of these are questions that I will be sure to keep in mind while visiting MOMA.

Finally, a third important concept that I found while reading was how to write about art.  Since The Arts in New York City is a writing intensive course, I felt that this would be pivotal to understand in order to have success in this class.  When writing about art, I need to remember to write about everything that I see and feel, not only for others to read, but for myself to understand my own views of art.  The more I write and the more successfully I can express what I think about what I see, the better grasp I will have for my own interpretation of art, and the better I will be able to critique and discuss it with others, including my classmates.  Barnet also brought to light how important it is to keep your audience in mind while writing about art.  This is an idea that I will keep with me throughout all of my life when writing, and one that I will definitely bring with me to MOMA if there is anything I need to write about the exhibition afterwards.

John Berger’s Ways of Seeing and Sylva Barnet’s A Short Guide to Writing About Art both teach valuable concepts about the nature of art, its purpose, and its significance relative to the context it was created in. I will apply their concepts of what art is and what it can be when I visit the Modern Art exhibition at MOMA to better gain an understanding of what an artwork truly represents, and what qualities make something seen or valued as art.

Berger views art as beholden to the spectator. Ways of Seeing argues that everything a person knows in this world is created by whatever their senses can discern of the world around them. To him, art does not and cannot exist in a vacuum, for the spectator’s view of the artwork is constantly influenced by the other information he has. If the information the spectator has does not make sense or is not enough to make an opinion, the art begins to take on a sort of mystical quality. When Berger states that some justifications of art of the past “can no longer make sense in modern times”, that “inevitably, it mystifies” (Berger 11), he means that the spectator is unable to fully understand the circumstances around which the art was created, so the artwork gains unknown or mysterious attributes which it would not normally have.

I can apply Berger’s concept of art to my MOMA viewing by acting as an informed spectator, gaining information about the context of the art as well as the artist. As each person views art differently because they have a different set of information to draw from, I also aim to try to discern what the artist themselves saw when they created the art, and what information they used to create it with.

Barnet views art as a universal concept, but also one that has little boundaries. She views art as a more abstract concept than simply a painting or object. Instead, Barnet views traditional artwork with the same mindset as one would see in a famous, oft-contested book or movie. Barnet advocates viewing art through careful analysis and having an understanding not just of the artwork itself, but what its purpose is and why it was created.

Barnet’s concepts of art are also applicable to my MOMA viewing, especially given the abstract nature of some aspects of modern art. Through her concepts, I understand that even things such as the room or gallery that the artwork is hung in or the medium it is shown through are important to understanding the artwork as a whole. By combining these two authors’ schools of critical thinking and observation, I feel much more prepared to view the MOMA exhibitions with an eye towards what the art is truly expressing.