Appreciating Art
9 Jan 2024, inspired by a play I watched last Sunday.
If I were to take you to the Louvre, and even if you had no lick of knowledge about what the heck the place famous for, you’d figure out on the way that there’s something called the Mona Lisa, that many claim it to be the most famous painting in the world. Every layman and everyone who visits the museum would surely rush to see the painting Mona Lisa. But what about the other hundreds of paintings that one would see on their way to view the Mona Lisa? Aren’t they special, and why don’t they deserve the same attention and fame as Mona Lisa?
I feel the answer lies in familiarity — it’s the reason why people tend to laugh at something because the popular societal consensus says so. Perhaps it is due to this same familiarity that people have their default and massy views on homosexuality, virginity, menstruation, prostitution, alcohol, etc. On the other hand, it is difficult to find someone with controversial and polarizing views on religion, education, technology, carpentry, magnetism, etc. Lack of knowledge often is the reason here. We can be optimistic because over the years society has always leaned to the left. Yay.
It takes a certain time and experiences for anyone to be comfortable in their own skin and be able to appreciate and see things that others can’t, and to ponder about and notice about things that others might not find important.
When looking at or making art, we are looking at a version of ourselves that has aged, accumulated experiences, memories, and moments, it also includes the emotions that make us at the point when we see or make that art.
Strangers passing in the street
By chance, two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
- Echoes by Pink Floyd
Think of listening to a song you loved back in the day, and then think of listening to that same song after a breakup — the experience would be poles apart.
Appreciating art is a unique journey for each individual, and the answer to it is always subjective. But the journey and the process are amazing when looking at or experiencing something meaningful, often giving significance to things seemingly insignificant (there’s another word for this: hallucinations, but we’ll discuss that another day).
The number one rule of appreciating any art form is to engage with it fully — whether it’s a painting, a song, a play, or a dance. It is important to indulge all of your senses and be fully present. In other words, be in the moment and don’t dwell on the past or the future. I like meeting my friends only later in the day after wrapping up work and other things, calling it “fursat se aana” because I know nothing will bother me, and the meeting with my friend allows us to catch up for as long as we want; sometimes three hours feel like three seconds!
Your entitlement to critique and form an opinion on any piece of art comes only when you’ve engaged with it completely. The only exception being “Echoes” by Pink Floyd because every second and moment of that song is brilliance and something out of this world. Of course, over time, your vibe and connection with any art would change because, remember, when looking at art, you’re looking at yourself and that version of you at that point of time and you will not be the same person in the future as you are right now.
Appreciating art also means you not talking to your fellow friends during the middle of the play and disturbing others or asking when the play is going to end. This is probably the most low-effort way in which you can respect and start your journey of appreciating art. Also, what’s invisible are the efforts and the work that was put into it creating the final form of the art. In this case, see the efforts that went into put together the props, background, details, rehearsals, direction, production, promotion and the writing the entire play and performing it on the d-day by the whole team.
At our play, I could see some folks who were trying to capture the whole 120 minutes on their phones. A young chap sitting in front of me was doing that throughout, and he looked at the play more through his phone screen than his own eyes. If we look at it, social media and this hyperconnectivity have all changed us humans for the worse (am generally optimistic but there are exceptions) — this chap was more concerned about the stuff in his groups that would happen after the play than when he was supposed to watch the play. Taking one or two videos of his closest ones is understandable, but the whole thing when the show is being recorded is something I’ll never understand, not to mention all the shallow conversations he’ll have after the play with his friends.
Coming to the play, which itself was okay but not great as I have seen better plays by the same team and the one last year was very memorable. The story spoke of something that could actually be summarized in three lines, making it predictable. It was a play’s version of “this could have been an email.” But when seeing even a single scene from the play, one must keep their eyes open to observe the actors in the background, the scene details, the props, costumes, expressions of the actors, lighting, and whatever is available in front of your eyes in the act that gives you a visual treat. It included an intro by a host and an outro in which the whole cast was introduced.
All of this comes easily to someone who creates some form of art, while others wouldn’t know how to do this and tend to have a higher learning curve (while some would never in their lifetime be able to do this). Folks who pay attention do it easily because they know the struggle behind creating and selling art. They understand how much it means to appreciate the creator of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bobblehead and how significant that moment is the artist.
And if you’re free enough somewhere between the years 1871–1922 and looking through the eyes of Marcel Proust, you’d also start to appreciate a mundane vase or a jar that you use to store hot water, all of which was painted during his life by the master of still life — Monsieur Jean Siméon Chardin.
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