How to look at art johnmartz: I saw a lot of this at the Picasso exhibit at the AGO. austinkleon: Edward Tufte has an interesting pamphlet called SEEING AROUND — in it he talks about how important it is to make the label and description the last thing you look at when you look at art in a museum: Pre-installed narratives, categories, metaphors, points of view, and deformation professional all interfere with how and what we see. In looking at art, once story-telling starts, it’s hard to see anything else…. For a while… let the artwork stand on its own. Walk around, see intensely, view from up down sideways close afar above below, enjoy… Your only language is vision. Joe Brainard said the same thing: the first thing to do when looking at a work of art was to do just that—look. Let your eyes take in what is in front of them. Look at a picture from different distances. Look away and then look back, but, since each picture suggests a visual starting point in it, choose a different point each time you look. At this stage, try not to have any thoughts about the work, such as where it fits in the artist’s oeuvre or in art history or social history. You can do that later. If you allow such thoughts at this point, they will distance you from your seeing. Something I try really hard to do now when I look at art — and as Goodfellas shows us, it’s so much more fun to make up your own stories about a painting…

How to look at art

johnmartz:

I saw a lot of this at the Picasso exhibit at the AGO.

austinkleon:

Edward Tufte has an interesting pamphlet called SEEING AROUND — in it he talks about how important it is to make the label and description the last thing you look at when you look at art in a museum:

Pre-installed narratives, categories, metaphors, points of view, and deformation professional all interfere with how and what we see. In looking at art, once story-telling starts, it’s hard to see anything else….

For a while… let the artwork stand on its own. Walk around, see intensely, view from up down sideways close afar above below, enjoy… Your only language is vision.

Joe Brainard said the same thing:

the first thing to do when looking at a work of art was to do just that—look. Let your eyes take in what is in front of them. Look at a picture from different distances. Look away and then look back, but, since each picture suggests a visual starting point in it, choose a different point each time you look. At this stage, try not to have any thoughts about the work, such as where it fits in the artist’s oeuvre or in art history or social history. You can do that later. If you allow such thoughts at this point, they will distance you from your seeing.

Something I try really hard to do now when I look at art — and as Goodfellas shows us, it’s so much more fun to make up your own stories about a painting…

(Source: johnmartz)

Looking through a book of drawings by Holbein I realize several moments of truth. A nose (a line) so nose-like. So line-like. And then I think to myself “so what?” It’s not going to solve any of my problems. And then I realize that at the very moment of appreciation I have no problems. Then I decide that this is a pretty profound thought. And that I ought to write it down. This is what I have just done. But it doesn’t sound so profound any more. That’s art for you. –Joe Brainard, “Art” in The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard.

Looking through a book of drawings by Holbein I realize several moments of truth. A nose (a line) so nose-like. So line-like. And then I think to myself “so what?” It’s not going to solve any of my problems. And then I realize that at the very moment of appreciation I have no problems. Then I decide that this is a pretty profound thought. And that I ought to write it down. This is what I have just done. But it doesn’t sound so profound any more. That’s art for you.

–Joe Brainard, “Art” in The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard.

I remember (spooky) when all of a sudden someone you know very well becomes momentarily a total stranger.
Joe Brainard, from I Remember in The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard, (Penguin Books, 2012)
I remember they way a baby’s hand has a way of folding itself around your finger, as though forever.
Joe Brainard, I Remember from The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard, (Penguin Books, 2012)
I remember having a friend overnight, and lots of giggling after the lights were out. And seemingly long silences followed by “Are you asleep yet?” and, sometimes, some pretty serious discussions about God and Life.
Joe Brainard, from I Remember in The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard, (Penguin Books, 2012)
I remember rocks you pick up outside that, once inside, you wonder why.
Joe Brainard, from I Remember in The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard, (Penguin Books, 2012)
I remember thinking about breathing, and then your head takes over the effort of breathing, and you see that it’s “hard work,” and it’s all very spooky somehow.
Joe Brainard, I Remember from The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard (Penguin Books, 2012)

Night

Day, you have gone
and done it again.

–Joe Brainard

Poem

Sometimes
everything
seems
so
oh, I don’t know.

–Joe Brainard

A Depressing Thought

     That a fantastic flower develops from just a little tiny seed–
that knowing that doesn’t totally rip us out of our minds–that’s a
depressing thought.

–Joe Brainard