
Usually, I go to museums to see art. Sometimes, I go to see people.
You can learn a lot about human nature in a gallery. Some buzz around the room in excitement, just happy to be in the presence of works they love. Others like to sit quietly with a painting for a lengthier period. They want to absorb every detail, every brushstroke, mine every story present in the artist’s work. Some have clearly been dragged there by their spouse, and some might be visiting a museum for the first time in years, or the first time ever.
Some walk the halls with their noses turned up, as if crossed arms and a harsh, narrowed gaze might conceal a raging inferiority complex. And then there are those who carry a bewildered expression in their eyes. They have no idea what they’re looking at. Are they doing something wrong? Is there a correct way to view art? Is a painting “deeper” if it’s more abstract, or “dumber” if the technique is easier to execute?
I’ve been writing about art on Substack for about a year and a half now, and one of my favorite notes that I receive is when someone comments that I’ve made the subject approachable. It is my deeply held belief that art (and history) is for everyone, and as the humanities suffer the slings and arrows of defunding, devaluation, and literacy decline, it’s more important than ever to make information accessible to the general public.
Fine art, more than music, literature, or any other art form, has a way of bringing up feelings of inadequacy in viewers. I personally know people who, in the face of their ignorance on this particular topic, respond with anger. They don’t “get” art, so they look down on the study of art history as unserious and unnecessary. Perhaps if they roll their eyes enough, the resentment that simmers in the pits of their stomachs will melt away.
But far, far more of the people I come across approach the subject in good faith. They genuinely don’t know where to begin, and when you tell them that you write about art, they will sheepishly confess that they “don’t know anything.”
I’m here to push back against that notion. Art doesn’t need to be snobby. If you have eyes, then you know something about visual art.
Beginning can be as simple as looking at a painting and asking yourself, “Do I like this?” What is your immediate response? Then, you can ask yourself why: what is it about a particular work that resonates (or doesn’t resonate) with you? Art is subjective, and your instant, emotional response to a work has value. Getting comfortable exploring why you like or dislike something will help you to develop your individual taste without worrying about others’ opinions on what is “correct” to revere.
The foundation is you. From there, you can begin learning more about the different artists, movements, and techniques that populate the history of art.
from Love Histories has an excellent resource list of books, documentaries, and more to help you jump in. from Art Every Day sends dispatches every week day that introduce readers to new paintings. from The Culture Dump shares wonderful reading lists about specific periods in art history.Websites like Arnet, ARTnews, and The Art Newspaper will keep you appraised of developments in the contemporary art market. Museums like the Getty will film many of their lectures, so you don’t have to live nearby to learn from their guest speakers.
The art market runs on exclusivity, and as I explored in a recent essay, this opaqueness is beginning to impact sales. What comes up must come down, and even the richest of buyers are starting to raise their eyebrows at the price inflation and speculation that have run rampant in recent decades. (Note that this issue is particularly acute on the secondary market, so the artists themselves don’t even profit.) It is a soulless state of affairs. Art was never meant to be a mere asset.
Snobbishness and exclusivity hinder the influence of fine art on culture. Let’s face it—paintings no longer sway the movement of culture in the way that writing, music, and films still do. I’m not naive to the fact that fine art faces a distribution issue. After all, a popular book can be reprinted thousands of times; a popular song can be streamed by millions of people.
But when I think about Édouard Manet’s ability to shock Paris at the Salon des Refusés, or the CIA’s role in promoting abstract expressionism for cultural propaganda (without the artist’s knowledge), I genuinely can’t think of a current, up-and-coming art movement that has this kind of impact. If fine art was more accessible to a broader swath of the public, maybe we would see that energy and enthusiasm once again.
Tom Wolfe made some acutely valid points on the art of the last 80 years, throughout his best novels.
As for real art, like real history and real anything cultural, few can be interested in it and appreciate it. Certainly some of them may be deterred by various kinds of barriers that are best removed or at least thinned away.