Our Curatorial Vision in Six Collections

Hi Everyone,

As we continue to evolve The Art Circuit we wanted to clarify our curatorial vision so you know what types of art to expect in the coming months.

We’ve centered on six Collections that represent key pillars of artistic styles. Now, are these comprehensive of ALL artistic types? No. But they do provide an experience of arguably the most famous movements that you’d want to understand and have in your home.

Here's how we are defining and thinking about these Collections: 

1. Abstract: Abstract art does not attempt to represent reality in any way. The effects are created via color, shapes, brushstrokes and technique rather than subject matter. For us, abstract art is some of the most personal because it lacks clear criteria for viewing and is a matter of spending time to understand how the art makes you feel.

2. Contemporary: Contemporary art is technically anything created during our lifetime, but it is generally considered art starting after 1970. It also must not obviously fall into one of the other five Collections based on style. Contemporary art can be challenging subject matter and media, and often pushes traditional boundaries of our definitions around “art.”

3. Impressionist: Impressionist art is arguably the most popular and visible style due to our exposure in museums and art history classes. The art is composed of freely brushed lines that accentuate light and movement over exact depictions of visual scenes. We can’t help but think of Monet when we say Impressionist. 

4. Modern: Modern art follows a style popularized between the mid 19th and mid 20th centuries. It often focuses on somewhat abstract shapes and colors, often born of themes around the industrial revolution or investigation of the subconscious. It was a step away from impressionism more towards true Abstract art (From Collection #1). Chagall, Van Gogh and Picasso all fall into the Modern movement even if they are positioned in sub-movements as well. 

5. Non-Western: Non-Western art is from and about Non-European or Non-North American subject matter and techniques. Admittedly, it’s a really broad name for something that covers most of the globe, but it's used across the art world to encompass art from different traditions so that’s why we’re using it. As The Art Circuit grows we we may create regional categories but for now this art will provide an experience of style outside the Western tradition. 

6. Photography: Photography is self-explanatory and is the only Collection named specifically for the MEDIUM used to create the art. Therefore the subject matter and composition will vary greatly but will always be based in a real world photography experience.

As you continue to provide feedback around popular collections we will increase holdings in those areas and bring you more targeted art to experience in your home. We also have exciting updates and announcements to make over the coming months about how you will use Collections to select your next artwork. 

Thoughts on Art Interpretation

We believe that engaging with an artwork is what draws us in, it’s what leads to a fulfilling experience beyond the initial first impression. We can’t just visually scroll past an image as with our social media feeds or the 13 Seconds described in an earlier article. Superficial viewing leaves us feeling flat and even forgetting the artwork as we walk out the door. We need to analyze and interpret what we see to fully enjoy the art. We advocate for viewing art via an open-minded critique that allows us to build intellectual understanding and experience from what is presented.

But interpretation is fraught with difficulties and half-truths. We rarely have access to artists or even their words while viewing a work, we might interpret their exact words differently than they were stated, or the passage of time and cultural differences could open a gap between their intent and our understanding. So it appears that even the idea of interpretation is destined to fail. If you’re feeling adventurous, here is one of the more famous essays on artistic interpretation ever written, Against Interpretation, by Susan Sontag. She eloquently addresses these pitfalls even if she doesn’t offer a solution.

For us, the process of enjoying art is more important to our project than any “right answer” that could be derived through interpretation. We simply don’t know exactly what each artist meant in every circumstance, nor is that all that matters - our experience of the art adds to the initial work itself and creates something new. We don’t need a pretentious vocabulary for art criticism but we do need a simple set of questions to ask ourselves and a straightforward habit we can develop to enjoy art.

A classic example from the late 18th and early 19th centuries was Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who set forth three criteria for critics to consider in interpreting and evaluating a work of art: (1) What was the artist trying to do? (2) Did he do it? (3) Was it worth doing? You could use these questions as a starting point for viewing each work that comes into your home or even museum pieces. But I don’t think it starts early enough or finishes properly.

Perhaps a better starting point is to ask yourself what you see - what are the shapes, lines, colors, and techniques. What media is the artist using in the form and structure of the art? Get a formal (the actual shapes) and physical understanding of the artwork first. We shouldn’t jump directly to the artist’s intent before asking these questions, nor should we end with asking ourselves about the merit of this artistic expression. Nonetheless, Goethe’s list is well known so worth foundational consideration. Then, moving forward, simply ask yourself what do you like about the art, what does it make you think and feel, and what 2-3 points would you convey to an acquaintance that visits your home.

Overall we have the four questions below:

• What are the physical characteristics of the art?

• What do you like about it?

• What does it make you think and feel?

• How would you describe it to someone else?

We’d recommend describing the art to someone else as the final step because it helps to clarify your thinking, and because interpretation is both personal and communal. Many of our artistic impressions (Probably too many) are told to us beforehand by institutions that deem art exceptional. We need a quick checklist such as above to become a habit which allows us to explore art personally and compare our understanding with friends, peers, and institutions. This generates the debate which becomes so satisfying when we bring art into our lives.

The catalyst for the proceeding discussion was our recent addition of descriptive cards to accompany each piece as it rotates through The Art Circuit. Initially we didn’t include descriptions because we wanted Members to have a pure experience of each artwork without words from the artist or the curators. We may have information about the art before Members but it does not make our information better or correct. It only tells you why art was selected for The Art Circuit according to our curatorial mission. The language also provides a window into what the art makes us think and feel. In many cases these are themes with a broad appeal. You can use this language to inform and initiate your viewing experience, but we hope you push well past it.

Overall we believe you must engage with art to enjoy the full experience, even if interpretation itself can become an intellectual exercise in frustration with no correct answers. Therefore each artwork is a conversation and a process which starts in one home and continues through many others within the community.

Viewing Art at Home

The experience of viewing art in your home takes many paths, but we have now rotated dozens of artworks through Member homes and have seen distinct patterns emerge in how that art is welcomed and appreciated. The elements of time, community, and physical context play a huge role in your experience, creating something more than your initial interpretation of the art itself.

Many of our friends crave exposure to multiple ideas and want variety in social and mental life. They consume “experiences” as often as “goods.” They would like to spend more time with art than the 13 second museum average (From prior article), but in most cases far less than perpetual ownership.

So how much time would people like to spend with most fine art? About two months. We asked our initial Members numerous times and they consistently replied with two months. The number isn’t magic, and it could change, but this was clear. In addition, the time rating was independent of someone’s overall enjoyment of the art. A person who was ecstatic about the art (Imagine a perfect “10”) did not want to keep the art substantially longer than a person who expressed lukewarm feelings (Imagine a “6”). Again, given the choice, most of our friends prefer variety; this is core to the experience economy and The Art Circuit.

But even within a bound time range changes occur as you linger with art. While your overall enjoyment might remain consistent, it likely grows or shrinks over time to some degree. We first uncovered this experience when Members began to say things such as “I like this piece a lot more now than I did initially,” or, conversely, and thankfully less often, “I loved this piece initially but became tired of it after awhile.”

Let’s examine a few scenarios under which art perception changes over time. First, “I like this piece a lot more now than I did initially.” Good. This is why we challenge ourselves with new books, food, art - creative pursuits that expose us to new experiences. With art we learn and grow in our appreciation of different styles and subject matters. Time helps us acclimate to a bold color pattern or sharp figurative lines that are unfamiliar. If a person has not owned much art it could be an acquired taste, as many valued tastes are, from broccoli to fine spirits.

Bringing new artwork to a Member’s home is the most essential joy we provide - and it is personally rewarding to us. The feelings of excitement and surprise are irreplaceable and only occur at that moment, when the prior artwork is removed, and they glimpse the new art settle into its location. The room may shift from an ethereal, impressionist interior to a bold, modernist set of geometric shapes. Or it could move from seaside flats painted in extremely thick oil to mixed media in black and white. This is a fantastic moment of adventure and variety. Most of us probably associate this transition moment with other experiences: an unexpected music track, the first sight of an unknown city, even images in our social media feeds. They all provide the rush of new exposure, and these sometimes steep and brew into new meaning. This is especially true of art.

This is because the art does not stand alone. It exists in the context of a home, and the people and activities who inhabit it. It’s an ecosystem. We ask for scores on many attributes, from artwork color to size and style. This is not the place to examine those data but suffice it to say, people initially judge art quite heavily based on the color and how it matches their interior decorations. People do NOT ever stop considering color as a primary factor, and we’ll share more scores in a few months, but they DO stop dwelling on the color and start reflecting on the content and style more heavily. They need time to view the artwork in the morning, evening, and night. Time to discuss with roommates, spouses, or friends (Living situations are quite varied in San Francisco). There is a time and moment when the art goes from an enjoyable surprise into being a part of the home and a comforting element- or an energizing element.  This is what happens when people tell us they “Enjoy the art more than they had initially.”

But sometimes, luckily much less often, the art is less interesting over time than initially. You might love an artwork initially but explore the feelings and thoughts it generates in each context over the course of a couple weeks. And you might discover that it settles and recedes into the background too quickly. Maybe it doesn't grab the space and become part of the room. Or you might find that the shapes, colors, and textures are obvious, and visual consumption becomes repetitive like a song that won’t go away because the radio plays it too much. This does happen under certain circumstances, and from what we’ve seen you  likely won’t know this from the first glance, or from immediately available attributes of the art, but it’s something that we are tracking with our surveys, to try and understand patterns about which art loses it luster.

Other exciting things happen when viewing art at home. It allows you to embrace curiosity. Without museum or gallery boundaries you can even - gasp - touch the artwork. Don’t tell anyone, but you can. And the art will certainly project different attitudes in segments through the day. As light is cast across the artwork it glows with different hues, as it does with natural vs. artificial light. We try to place artwork in locations that attract natural light  directly instead of from the sides, but not every space enables this. Museum lighting is incredible; it’s directed perfectly to the shade and tone of an artwork. But that isn’t the reality of how durable artworks must gleam inside your home, and we often forget the challenges of hanging artwork in even the most primary locations. The reality is the art will look completely different at noon than at dinner. It will change entirely with open or closed blinds. It is not a perfect and consistent viewing environment with adjustable light. But this is something to relish rather than lament because you can truly see and uncover what oil painting, acrylic or photography does under the different circumstances and how the artwork reflects and day’s mood. Since the art becomes part of your context it cannot be perfectly sheltered from changing surroundings, as it is a catalyst itself for some changes.

As the surroundings change, this does not simply indicate daylight, it indicates people as well. Many people enjoy truly communal interaction around art in their home. On numerous occasions when we have asked Members how long they’d like to keep an artwork, their immediate response is “Long enough to have a dinner party.” That’s a perfect response. It reflects the pride of having something beautiful and unique to discuss with friends, or even the private desire to impress visitors with something new. Something that struck us when we began entering people’s homes to hang art was how apologetic most people are about their home. “It’s so messy,” or “Sorry we haven’t organized things properly.” The vast majority of us reading at this moment are somewhat unsure about the shoes, socks, books and dishes strewn across the house. But bringing a new and compelling artwork to a person’s home injects a new set of beauty. Sometimes it even (slightly) nudges people to tidy their surroundings and share the vibrancy over dinner, wine, beer, coffee - your item of choice. The discussion that ensues is often about ideas or places inspired by the art - it’s a catalyst to start that conversation and wonder to broader museum shows, novels or other creative pursuits. The feedback and experience created among friends becomes the new context and history of that art for each person, the collective story you tell around it. This dramatically changes your initial impression from when the piece was first hung on your wall.

After the friends depart, after you’ve seen the art across times of day, and whether the work is more or less compelling over time, it always leaves for a new home. Likely you feel a moment of nostalgia when the experience draws to a close, but it is quickly followed by the joy and energy burst of hanging new artwork in the momentarily vacant space.

13 Seconds and The Art Experience

Recently I decided to visit the de Young museum in San Francisco to see how much time people spend viewing famous artworks.

Why? I had a sense, a hypothesis, that the time spent was minimal, almost negligible. Somehow this leaves me unsettled and thinking we don’t have a real experience when we view art. A real experience, equal to the joy of a stirring song.

We process images quickly, almost instantaneously according to most studies, but just because we “process” it does not mean we’ve had an experience and absorbed meanings and ideas from the piece... So were my misgivings accurate?

The de Young was packed, perhaps due to a Keith Haring exhibit in the basement. More on that later, I wanted to view renowned pieces in the permanent collection first. Luckily the de Young makes that easy. They provide listings of the most important works for those who have only One or Three hours available. That made my challenge of finding the “most important works” much easier, since they list them directly on the viewing pamphlet. The de Young is the 5th most visited museum in the US, despite it’s smaller size than what I’ve come to expect from museums in New York, DC, or Chicago. And it’s beautifully set in Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, leaving you enjoyable time outside before or after a visit.

So what were the two American paintings listed to view if you only have 1 hour? After the Hunt by William Hartnett from 1885 and Rainy Season in the Tropics by Frederic Edwin Church from 1866. First, I sat and had a double espresso in the cafeteria before meandering up to the second level. The de Young cafeteria is an only-in-california affair, with Kale Salads and gluten free options, it’s a culinary lunch destination in its own right, at least relatively.  

Despite activity in the cafeteria the second story was calm. It was easy enough to find my way toward the stated paintings since the museum is small, and upon seeing the map spread across my face, a few guards offered assistance.

Rainy Season Is in room 26, Art in America until the 20th Century. The paintings have that classic, masterpiece feel and a heavy leaning toward landscapes. Many of the hues are muted though, leading to a general feeling of grandeur with age. It’s easy to spot Rainy Season, which is given a position of prominence, front and center, in the hall. You’ll see it below.

Before attempting to fully process and interpret the piece, I was eager to begin timing. I had been thinking about this exercise for weeks. Interestingly, despite ample space, there is not even a bench in Room 26, or 25 for the matter, which contains After the Hunt by Hartnett. Few benches exist in the de Young, existing more like oases than a regular part of the geography.

With journal, stopwatch, and pen in hand I hit start when the first person was pulled into the Rainy Season’s visual field and was clearly focused on that piece. The exact second count here was an unscientific process but it was good for trend lines. The man walked up to the piece, nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement of verticality, and moved on. Three seconds. Surely this wouldn’t be the average time, and indeed it would not - quite.

I had already written lines and columns in my notebook so only needed to stand awkwardly without viewers noticing that they were also part of the show. If only there had been a bench it might have appeared that I was studiously sketching a master copy. Standing, walking, faking interest in other pieces - especially the immediately neighboring pieces, walking into the other room and coming back - this was a long 30 minutes. I was on a head-nod basis with the guards, not because they seemed suspicious, but because I think we had a moment of empathy connecting about how slowly time passes when you’re watching the watchers.

As expected, people spend sadly little time viewing masterpieces, at least this masterpiece on this day (although I also viewed others). The average time was 13 seconds. I’m not sure how much to lament 13 seconds, given that we do process visuals quickly, and we’re constantly scanning hundreds of Facebook and Instagram photos, and Tweets as well. But it seems that we could learn more from a pause and from engaging with the piece. Simply ask yourself what it means, why it’s a masterpiece, what you love about it? Entire volumes have been written about how to view art, and we’ll cover that here later, but artwork, especially masterpieces, deserve more, and so do you.

But during the investigation something even more troubling occurred. While counting viewers there was a pause, a gap without anyone viewing the piece at all. And then it happened again, and again. During 30 minutes there were 8 entire minutes where I was the only person viewing Rainy Season. This was even more true of After the Hunt, which is why I couldn’t even use it for my investigation. And remember, the de Young is the 5th most visited museum in the United States, so it’s not for lack of bodies in the halls. But in many cases that’s all it was - bodies in the halls. I read in the Museum 2.0 Blog that most museum visitors cannot recall a specific piece of artwork after their visit.

Keith Haring was downstairs, and he was my ace in the hole. But first, a few words about Rainy Season: The painting is full of hope. Dual rainbows sit above jagged peaks, with the sun shining through passing clouds. You get the sense the clouds are clearly passing rather than arriving, and the horizon is becoming clear. Mist is dancing every direction and melds into and out of river spray in the center of the image. A finer student of art history could spend an afternoon explaining the piece. Apparently Church visited Jamaica in 1865 after two children unexpectedly passed away, and this painting what a cathartic return to positivity. You see and feel this, and maybe you only need 13 seconds?

I tried to replicate this experiment in a room with seating - the Impressionist Gallery. Then in front of Dali, a painter that has captivated so many people’s attention through their lives. I couldn’t find one piece that struck a powerful chord in the Impressionist Gallery, despite decent passing foot traffic. As for Dali, I’m doubtful that many people even know the de Young has his artwork.

Downstairs, Keith Haring was a raucous celebration in comparison. And indeed, even from an absolute perspective, the exhibit was hopping with energy. I was frustrated that after paying $29 the attendant told me there was no brochure, and that I had to buy the guided tour, but that’s another topic.

When you think of a rockstar exhibit, this is it. The show contained over 130 artworks, on mediums ranging from tarps, canvas and sculpture. The exhibit was covered extensively by local media, such as SFgate, here, so there’s no reason for me to recreate the analysis. Suffice it to say, his classic motifs of dogs, penises, and stick figures are burned into my memory, along with the vibrant community activism that made his mindset so attractive.

For our purposes, this is where the viewing got interesting: The average viewing time in the Keith Haring’s grand hall was 2 minutes and 11 seconds. This is the time a person took to begin walking across the 50+ ft. room until they turned to a separate wall. The position in question consisted of over 25 pieces from floor to soaring ceiling (at least 30ft high) and wall to wall. The room had a celebratory energy and people were chatting, smiling, giggling at penis drawings, and dropping Andy Warhol references with abandon. This was arguably the show’s focal point, including the show’s signature image, below. Although just a few seconds per piece on average, 2 minutes and 11 seconds is a deeper experience. The question is if that’s the time that the best rooms deserve.  

I leave you with a quote and thought on viewing time: One of my favorite artists, Julie Mehretu, speaking on Tate Art Talk, describing why she chose the style and scale of a recent exhibition, “Because I was also frustrated with the desire of trying to decipher these paintings...it became such a hinderance to the ability to just be immersed in the painting and have a physical experience or a really time-based, slow experience. To think painting is very slow, it takes time, and we consume images so quickly, and our ability to really stay in front of a painting for 10 minutes is almost-- you rarely see someone look at a painting that way, and paintings operate over such a long time, so a lot of what I was interested in in these paintings in the use and amount of information that goes into them was to participate in this other kind of experience that could happen and I wanted to move away from the desire to try and read them or decipher them.”

Proving my hypotheses leaves me asking where to go from here. The premise was that people spend scarcely little time experiencing artwork live. But how much is “enough?” I’d invite comments on that question. Whatever the number, we’re searching for an authentic experience - something that allows us to to enjoy and contemplate the resonance of a piece. Whether it’s 13 seconds or 2 minutes and 11 seconds, I think another option exists to spend more time with high quality art. The Art Circuit is one small attempt to support that, albeit without “famous” artworks - for now. That is something we might be able to change though in the future, working with museums and galleries.