Truly Seeing Van Gogh & Rothko
It was a few weeks back when the National Gallery and Tate Modern in London announced the reopening of their magnificent spaces. From now on, however, visitors need to book a time slot to restrict the number of visitors in enclosed spaces. Routes are strictly guided and clearly defined for the different rooms, and nobody is allowed to cross over.
By and large, the most popular room at the National Gallery happens to be my favourite era, the impressionists and post-impressionists and large number of visitors would tend to tightly gather around the Renoirs, Monets, Pissaros or Seurats. By the time one reaches the Van Gogh’s paintings, it is a matter of luck if one can catch a microsecond glimpse or half a minute look, as visitors, in particular, the younger ones are busy taking selfies, much to the outrage of puritans who are there to appreciate the works. Please do not get me wrong as an amateur photographer, I often annoy my children with my photoshoots. But galleries are hardly the place for selfies if one fails to truly pick on the beauty of the work, admire the art and the ability of talking about the paintings. Yet something magical happened when I took my young children to the Gallery. WE COULD TRULY SEE VAN GOGH, we could admire each painting, discuss the brush strokes and his feelings behind his work. I took a photo to show that nobody was there, as we sat on the bench right opposite the frames. It was quite a revelation to hear 2 young kids discussing the art, what they wanted to replicate and how difficult it must have been for Van Gogh. Talking about emotions…
The following week, the Tate reopened its doors and the same process was in place. That meant we could roam the galleries at our own pace, without having this desperate urge to leave if rooms got too crowded. We discovered the works of Mark Rothko. Once upon a time, I would go in and look at brushstrokes of his famous 1950s murals. This time, my son and I had the luxury to discuss what we truly saw, our interpretation of the art behind the artwork. The fact that two thick brush strokes at different distances or rectangles made us think about how often we feel tightness around us, rigidity and restrictions, which contradicts what living should really be. Living should be light, with free-flowing energy to allow us space for love and compassion for every being around us. Listening to a tweenager was quite revelatory, again free expression of feelings and emotions oozed. The lack of people around us allowed to truly see Mark Rothko. Of course, our interpretation of the paintings had very little to do with the commissioning of his work, but the fact remained that we were able to discuss and express ideas. That’s the ultimate beauty in art. The interpretation and philosophy behind each piece of work. These experiences got me thinking.
The fact that we were not pushed and shoved in both galleries meant freedom of thoughts and giving us the space that we often crave to express our inner depths. Have we too often been living our lives by numbers, to-do lists and tick boxes? Do we live for us or for others: the obsession of selfies in front of famous paintings prompts this line of thinking! Instead of looking with our eyes, we look through a device? Of course, my generation will blame Facebook and Instagram champions, but truly we are no different from the younger generation in showing off our accomplishments! Admiring a Van Gogh is an accomplishment for many of us, but do we just live just for looking, or do we live our lives for truly seeing? Do we glimpse at shallow levels or see inner depths? Do we go to art galleries for our cultural enrichment and thinking or just for the show, as we feel the need to impress our peers?
Perhaps one needs to do less and see more, hear more and feel more. It is an art that we could all cultivate for the betterment of humanity. Perhaps we could remind ourselves that beauty lies within a frame if we spend enough time truly seeing someone’s creation and thinking, just as beauty lies within ourselves and around us.
Living life is perhaps an art…
