What do you think about the idea of visiting an art gallery? Perhaps it reminds you of school trips and reminders not to touch the paintings. Maybe they’re somewhere you only go while on holiday. You might visit on a whistle-stop tour of a city, ticking famous paintings off your list. They’re there to be done. After all, if you don’t see, for example, Pablo Picasso’s Guernica at the Museo Reina Sofia while you’re in Madrid, can you say you’ve even visited?
Or perhaps you think of yourself as ‘not an art gallery person’. Many people hate the idea of entering one, imagining it to be either deathly dull or full of snobs, or both. The artist Stanley Donwood thinks that art galleries in general are ‘just intimidating… not very democratic’. Ironically, this quote was on the wall of an exhibition featuring Donwood at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford – with a perhaps less-than-democratic entrance fee of £18.
The notion that galleries are exclusive has been floating in the ether for years. If you’ve ever entered a high-end commercial space, you might have found that to be true. There’s nothing like being pegged as a lowly browser by the owner, eyeing you from the CCTV monitor as you gawk at the multiple zeroes on price tags.
All that said, many big public galleries are free to enter, which is extremely democratic. They’re also usually quieter than the average indoor space. In the larger ones, you’re not even asked to purchase anything, unless you’re lured by the hardbacks and stationery in the gift shop, and you can take in the art as slowly or as quickly as you wish.
In fact, rather than intimidating, galleries have the opposite effect: they induce a feeling of calm. A recent study by King’s College London shows that viewing art in a gallery lowers cortisol and inflammation markers that lead to disease, when compared to looking at the same images in other contexts (Vincent Van Gogh’s Sunflowers on a dusty pinboard, for example).
So if you’ve ever thought of yourself as not an art gallery person, think again. Because whatever your opinion of the talent within, simply going to one will do you the world of good. And while many extol nature as beneficial for the soul and mind, it’s not always easy to get to the countryside when you’re in the middle of a city. An art gallery, though; well, you might find one a bus ride away. So if you’re feeling stressed or low, then walk this way and discover a world of culture on your doorstep.
High ceilings
Galleries, especially those built during the Victorian era, often have high ceilings, echoing the feel of cathedrals. Air above your head is calm-inducing, and gives you literal space to breathe. Beneath your feet is often a wooden or marble floor, and you rarely hear people running in a gallery. This space is for a sedate stroll, at best.
There’s also something inherently pleasing about the layout of the art. White space is often generously used, the better to display the works, lending yet more feelings of calm. Inside, you get the sense that nobody’s rushing you. You can often walk in whichever direction you like. You can spend all your time on one piece, and ignore the rest. You’re free to wander, and while that should be true of the rest of your life, it very often isn’t.
Perhaps one intimidating aspect of public galleries is the sheer overwhelming number of artworks they contain. If you’re on a rare trip to one, it can be tempting to cram in all the famous names, and even then it can take you hours. But what might be more worthwhile: to spend time in a particular era – taking in the work of one artist, or even just one of their artworks – or whizzing from one portrait to the next?
Some galleries provide seating so you can rest while taking in the art. But even standing for a while in front of one delivers you riches you might never notice if you were rushing on through. It’s tempting to glance at it, read the accompanying legend and then tick it off your mental to-do list: it’s certainly something I’ve done more times than I care to admit. But allowing yourself time to truly absorb a work of art, staying there for longer than you feel comfortable with, might let some of its beauty enter your soul.
It doesn’t need to be a famous painting or sculpture. You can stop in front of anything that appeals to you, and dare yourself not to look at who created it, when or in what medium. Take in the overall feel of the piece, and then focus on the small details. You can let your mind drift, or allow your body to be rooted in the ground. Then breathe.
Visit alone or with friends
The good thing about a gallery is that you can be self-sufficient. If you find yourself alone in a city for a day, head towards an art gallery and you’ll discover all the companions you need on the walls. In big public galleries, the volunteers who staff the rooms are often extremely knowledgeable, and you’ll often leave knowing far more about the art than you’d learn by yourself. More than 30 years ago, in 1995, I visited Dublin’s National Gallery and saw my first Caravaggio painting, The Taking of Christ. I still remember the eager staff member who explained how it had been found in a dining room just a few years before, and showed me where it had been painted over in places by the artist.
But visiting a gallery can also be valuable when visited with real-life others. For a start, there’s no need to make idle small talk, something that many people don’t enjoy. You also have someone with whom to discuss your thoughts afterwards, while adding their impressions to your own. There’s the pleasing nature in a smaller exhibition that you’re in flow with each other – at moments you’ll coincide, looking at the same piece, while in others you’ll drift apart to contemplate separate works.
Additionally, with friends you can end up viewing works of art you’d never normally bother with. Your pal who’s passionate about antiquity when you’ve never thought about it might ignite in you an equal enthusiasm for ancient sculptures. Or perhaps you don’t have much time for modern art, but going with a friend who loves it might mean you see it in a different light this time.
And of course, there’s also the promised visit to a tearoom afterwards to discuss the art you’ve seen, surely a prerequisite for any social visit to a gallery and a boost to your wellbeing, at the least.
Online versus real life
One of the benefits of the modern age is the chance to see phenomenal works of art whenever you like, online. And while that’s better than not being able to see them at all, viewing them in real life is an opportunity to sink into the piece and let it take you over.
That’s partly because seeing a work of art in person brings you closer to its maker. There’s nothing like the frisson you get when you see Claude Monet’s The Beach at Trouville in London’s National Gallery, and notice the grains of sand embedded in the painting, whipped up by the wind as he depicted the very scene before you.
But it’s not only sand that brings you closer to the moment any piece was created. Slicks of oil paint on a Renaissance canvas; thumb prints in a sculpture; grains of wood showing through an ancient work of art. Being with it in this way compresses time; here you are, in the studio or in the workshop, one human connecting with another, perhaps more than a thousand years apart.
This is more than being present; it’s being present with a far-distant human being, and what a gift that is.