When Art Touches and When It Doesn’t
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
Art is a two-way street. Sure, the standard information chain remains artist — medium — audience. While the first two parts of this process are intrinsically connected and no doubt pass the original message, the final result is entirely dependent on the audience.
For many years I lived in London and with the abundance of galleries and easily accessible museums, I visited a fair share of exhibitions and art shows. Tate Modern was never really my cup of tea, but more often than not it was an affordable option. And I had many acquaintances that were huge fans of contemporary art. No wonder I frequented it more often than I would care to admit.
There are two types of experiences when visiting a gallery or a museum: it either resonates within our soul, or it doesn’t. Pretty Woman (1990) comes to mind — when Edward takes Vivian to the opera, he explains that initial reactions people have are usually very dramatic.
“They either love it or hate it. If they love it, they will always love it. If they don’t, they may learn to appreciate it, but it will never become a part of their soul.”
This is how I feel about contemporary art. At least, most of it. I’ve been to galleries around Europe as well as those here in the USA, and it always feels the same: I go with high expectations, open to the idea of being surprised, mesmerised and…touched?
But it never happens. It rarely does.
I learned to appreciate the 5,000 nails shaped into a..? I’m not quite sure what, exactly?..
And I found it interesting to climb a set of odd stairs with a variety of quotes on them — circling around the room, different levels and a choice of perspectives to observe other gallery visitors as well as the variety of quotations and stairs on the other side of the massive hall… It’s a lot of work, I get it.
But at the same time, I don’t.
Now my art-loving acquaintances, on the other hand, are absolutely mesmerised. “Just look at the textures!” they say, eyes shimmering and glimmering with excitement and pure fascination. “Did you notice the shift from this angle? How incredible!” they shriek as they explore these monstrosities of dadaism, neomodernism or I don’t even know what other branch of modern art it could pertain to.
It’s easy to see: it speaks to them. They want art that spreads its wings from the grey ashes of daily life. They seek something relatable and well-aligned with everyday worries and a normal existence. Yet, what’s art for them is a form of depression (and a good visit to the junkyard?) for me. But it goes both ways — they don’t appreciate my kind of art either.
Back in 2019, the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam assembled the biggest-ever Rembrandt exhibition — a vast effort was made to arrange paintings to be sent and showcased in the Netherlands. It was one kind of exhibition — art connoisseurs brimmed with excitement and rushed to book their flights, hotels and museum tickets.
I wouldn’t call myself a massive enthusiast, but I appreciate classical art. At least that’s my standard of what good art should look like. No wonder, I took the initiative to convince my partner: we have to go!.. Lucky for me, he is one of those open-minded creatures who welcome rich cultural experiences — off we were!..
I will not go into the intricacies of the exhibition or how much we enjoyed the Rijksmuseum, but I will mention how we wanted to make the most of our short trip. So, we visited the Van Gogh Museum (which was absolutely amazing!), the Torture Museum and Ripley’s. In our opinion, Madame Tussauds is overrated, so like proper cultured individuals, we spent a day at the Heineken’s brewery.
In my humble opinion, we did a brilliant job and this still stands to be one of the most memorable trips we ever did. Came back home well-saturated with quality art, great experiences and beautiful views of the Keizergracht. Didn’t get hit by a bicycle, which is always a plus!.. And no, we didn’t go to see the Red Light District — why is this even a question?.. Instead, we spent afternoons at the FoodHallen stuffing our bellies with the most delightful fresh foods one could imagine — I tell you, those food stalls are an art form on their own!..
Coming back from our trip we were brimming with joy and excitement — could barely wait to share images and experiences with my sister and closest of friends. Little did I know no one would share my sentiment — I was greeted with pairs of cold eyes, followed by tilted heads and an avalanche of questions: “So, what else did you do in the Netherlands?”, “Did you see X, Y and Z?”, “Did you try X? I’ve heard it’s amazing!”, “What about Z? Did you go and visit?”
In my head, the trip was extremely eventful as I ticked all of the boxes: visited galleries and museums, explored the city, walked through the most beautiful of parks, took boat trips to explore the canals as well as the sea, stuffed myself with great food and even took part in a beer tasting session. What else could one want?!
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
What holds value to you might not resonate with me. And what I hold dear and beautiful might seem shallow or unrelated to you. It doesn’t mean one of us is wrong and it doesn’t mean any of us are right.
Art is a subjective matter.
As objective and open-minded as we are, we filter the world through our own prism. Sociocultural background, childhood experiences, education and the environment we’re in — it all shapes our perceptions. Every piece we’re exposed to is evaluated accordingly. Naturally, some things resonate more than others.
I find it magical how sometimes we accept or reject certain forms of art solely because they correspond to our identity. Sometimes we want to disrupt, we want to step away from our personalities and environments and art serves as a great form of escapism. Here you have it — brilliant professional crunching numbers for a living and working in a highly competitive power culture, yet seeking colourful and silly-looking artwork. Maybe reading manga or webtoons after work. Shaking off any classical form of art because that’s exactly what their life is.
And on the other side, I’ve been surprised by comments of a random stranger — horribly unserious looking — that just sat next to me on the tube. They knew the book I was reading. No, more than that — they were more than proficient in the genre and that type of literature altogether!.. What a mind-blowing experience…
However, these are the extremes. I believe the majority of us fall into the category that the art we consume and appreciate corresponds to our background and lifestyle. We acquire an aesthetic appetite for things that fall into a particular category and thus we judge all art thrown at us accordingly. Sure, we might learn to appreciate how difficult it was to produce, how technically challenging or how many hours of work it might have required. But at the end of the day, if it doesn’t resonate — it doesn’t resonate. It’s as simple as that.
A piece of art talks to us through the words and brush strokes of the artist. Pieces puzzled together representing their worldviews, the love never had or the loss experienced. Or it might just send a happy emotion across — who knows?.. But it’s not the artist’s fault — or the medium’s — if the message doesn’t reach us. Perhaps we’re not wired for that message or maybe it’s not in the shape or form we could perceive it.
Art is a form of language. I speak quite a few of those and have an interest in a few more. But chances are if someone attempts to communicate in Vietnamese, I would not even bother to understand it. I can read the tone, evaluate the pitch and the low, and register the body language — it will (hopefully) tell me if the message is a positive or a negative one. But I doubt I would be interested enough or it would resonate enough for me to look for a dictionary.
But isn’t it fine anyway? Because if it doesn’t resonate, it might just mean that I’m not the intended recipient.
My scribbles dive into a variety of topics. The thread of thought can be unpredictable — inspired by places, people, experiences or the occasional earworm on the playlist…
I often weave my cloth of writing unsure where the threads will lead — or if the final tapestry will hold.
Yet whether I scribble fantasy or horror, highly opinionated or research-driven pieces, I hope it leaves you with something to ponder: makes you feel better (or worse?..), strikes an inner monologue (hopefully, voiced out in the comments!) or simply gives you something to chew on, inspiring to keep the creative ball rolling.
Thank you for reading!
