by D. Kearney Sparano

Created on: September 10, 2009

I used to work in a gallery. For a period of 6 weeks I worked as an unofficial security guard on the Upper East Side. Day in and day out people would come in to look at the show that was up and often several times a day a gallery group would come in. They would typically consist of seniors or tourists that wanted to take in the entire Upper East Side gallery experience in a day. With each gallery tour that would come in I would hear either the exact (or a close approximation to) same speech about the artist and her work. The crowd would gather to listen, as if it were gospel. Then finally they would break, run around the gallery looking at the work for 5 minutes and leave.

To be fair, there is nothing wrong with this scenario. If it helps broaden a person's horizon and increase their knowledge, then I suppose it is a good thing. I have a much different philosophy on how art should be viewed. While doing my graduate work I was required to take a class called philosophy and criticism. That class introduced me to a book, Ways of Seeing. It was based off of a multi part BBC series with John Berger. The crux of his book and argument is simple: people spend too much time focusing on what is written about the art and not enough time actually looking at it.

It's quite a simple concept, but it always seems like the simplest things are the hardest to understand. Many Americans equate going to a museum like going to church. So it would only be natural to further that analogy and say that many feel what is written about a painting is gospel. That, however, is simply not the case. The greatest asset anyone can have in viewing art is their own eyes.

Viewing a painting, sculpture, bowl or a piece of jewelry should be its own learning experience. Connecting to it based solely on aesthetics is not bad, questioning the piece and trying to deduce the answers can be much more rewarding then reading it from a book. Also, the experience of viewing a work of art, unencumbered by theory or history, allows the viewer to approach the piece completely fresh. Often knowing the background of a piece or some personal information on the artist can cloud the reception of the viewer. Personal thoughts, feelings and opinions can skew perception. It is in this manner that people can look at Da Vinci's Last Supper and take away hidden messages and inferences, thus completely overlooking the beauty of the work.

Seeing, viewing, observing, those are the true keys to appreciating art. Deciding for oneself is a much better way to love a piece, rather then being influenced by the circumstances that surround it. Coming to one's own conclusions based on an honest uncluttered relationship with a piece of art is the purest form of appreciation.

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