(not) getting it
Understanding vs. feeling art
The first time I visited National gallery of modern art in New Delhi, around 2009, I came across the works of the Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore’s brother, Abanindranath Tagore. And quite honestly, I didn’t get it. These were markings on paper with charcoal, honestly they didn’t even look like studies to me, forget about seeming like something that has any artistic value. This was also the time when I was trying to teach myself design, setting myself up for a creative career, so naturally, I felt extra bad about not understanding it. Some part of me dismiss it as “bad art” because I didn’t get it. Some part of me wanted to try and understand it. And some part of me wanted to move on, because there is a lot of work in the world and I want to spend my time on things that interest and intrigue me. Looking back, that moment was important in me learning to interface with art, over the coming years.
One of my favourite pieces of artwork ever is “untitled (a portrait of ross)” by Felix Gonzales Torres.
From afar, it is a pile of candy, wrapped in vivid wrappers, that viewers are encouraged to take from. The work changed how I saw portraits. And what it meant for me to “capture the likeness”. The portrait is the ideal weight of Ross, the artist’s partner, who passed away during the AIDS epidemic. The viewers take away pieces from the pile, diminishing the pile, the same way that Ross lost weight as time passed with the disease. The museum is instructed to refill the pile daily. So it starts at the ideal weight, ready to give a little bit of sweetness to each viewer who decides to interact with it. I must have cried for a good 10 minutes the first time I learnt about the artwork in 2012/13. Just the strength of the metaphor and the simplicity of it felt like a gut punch. And it took me years to be able to talk about the piece without actually getting misty eyed, so strong was the impact of it on me.
There is always this feeling whenever one is introduced to a work that requires some interpretation, an effort if you will, that one has to be “good” at it. Understanding, probably because of the way our education system is structured, always feels evaluatory to us. This doesn’t just stop at visual art. If someone plays some classical music, or jazz, or any genre that one does not frequently consume, there is a discomfort because of the new feelings/emotions that music may evoke. When we do not understand the feelings we are feeling, we run to try and explain the components that form the piece.
Even my description of the paintings by Abanindranath was “markings on paper with charcoal” which is what a lot of art is, markings on paper with something. But still, because I did not emotionally have a reaction strong enough, or one that I understood, my instinct was to break it down into component pieces and try to objectively evaluate if there is any inherent value in those core pieces.
Just like someone seeing “Portrait of Ross” will say “Oh its just a pile of candy in the corner. I don't get it”.
A large part of my artistic growth has been learning to make space for not getting it, realising that me not getting something does not invalidate the art and moving on from things that don’t resonate with me on to those that do. When I visit art galleries these days, I skip the works that don’t feel like they have evoked something interesting for me. Sometimes that can look like skipping entire sections of galleries because I “don't get it” and sometimes it means standing in front of a singular artwork for a long time, because I really do get it.
It has also opened up a way in which I can make my own creations less dependent on reactions. It is human to worry about perception, we are a social species afterall, but this way of learning that resonance is what matters and not being able to explain something.
But what about some work feels resonant? In my own lived experience, and this holds true for both creation and consumption processes, there is a sense of peace and calm that I feel with pieces I feel resonance with. A feeling of now-ness. Almost an escape from the constant tussle that the mind goes through day to day, where it keep flipping between what does the past mean, and where will the future be. Pieces of work that feel resonant ground me into the now.
Sometimes it is just a melody that makes me forget any movement. Sometimes it is a painting that draws me in, with its colors, shapes, textures, symbols. Sometimes it is a game or a book that draws me in. But always, it is a feeling of, there is nowhere else to go but here.
When I first learnt about Portrait of ross, it became clear that while up until that point, I had always thought of portrait as the likeness of someone, which meant their face, this made me realise, portraits can also be about capturing the essence of someone. It also changed for me the idea that art is between the artist and the viewer. Here the artwork was clearly a love letter to Ross, while also keeping the audience in mind. These different components make this piece resonant on multiple levels, everything from as an artist to as a human. And every time I remember the piece or talk about it, I feel like there is nowhere to go. I don't need to rush anywhere.
I’ve been trying to write an article about art for sometime. There are several rough drafts in my notion right now, but I was not sure what I wanted to write about. But recently I got reminded of a conversation I had a few years back with a good friend of mine, when she and I went to NGMA and how she felt like she didn't “get” a lot of works, and I just told her to not bother with the ones she doesn't get and only focus on those which make sense to her. I think that made the rest of our trip through the art gallery much more enjoyable for her, and a much nicer bonding experience for both of us. And as I was remembering this conversation this week I thought at the very least, this is an interesting perspective on art and its role in my life.
In some ways this resonance is a way of tuning into one’s intuition and taste. What do I like? and am I able to make space for it? That maybe story for another article. But the trick enjoying art, and to learning to hone in on one’s intuition is to let the evaluatory brain settle down, and just let one’s self be in the moment with the experience. To experience the moment the first time you come in contact with a work that you know will change you.
Since I have talked so much about art in this post, here are some photos from the art that resonated with me this year, some in India, some in Istanbul and some in Vietnam. Some of them also have my own scribbles over them.
And before you go, I’d love to know about the pieces of work that have stuck with you this year.
Hope you are having a wonderful time with your family during this holiday season. I shall see you in a brand new year.
I love this!! A lot of Egon Schieles work has really resonated with me I like the way he hides faces in things and represents people and places in one it just feels to me how I see things in terms of both impacts but also constituent parts. And then I think it’s such a nice way to show our interconnectedness.
Thank you for this beautiful reflection. It brought back many happy memories for me and gave me some ideas for what I might enjoy doing in the future. Two of my favourite art exhibits have been ones where the artist had the whole floor in the gallery and used the space as part of the art; didn't leave it plain and white. One was Urs Fischer and the other was David Altmejd. I loved them. I felt contained and connected rather than observant.