how to really see a painting rather than just look at it

One day, while conducting a computer class, one of my students was struggling with a problem and demonstrated the issue while I watched. He tried the task. An error box popped up. He immediately clicked [OK] and then turned and said, "See. This is my problem".

I was stunned. The error box told him the solution, yet he did not read it. I barely had the time to see it and had to ask him to repeat the experiment just to read it properly. It seemed to take a lot of effort for the young man to pause and look.

This made me wonder if we are breeding a generation of kids conditioned with inbuilt attention deficit disorder.

OK. Maybe that's a little strong. But a short attention span and demand for instant information does seem to be taking first seat. 

You can look at something but not see it. You can look at a tree but not really see that tree. I will explain.

When viewing a tree - even if it is in your field or vision or even if it is in focus for a long time, could you then turn away, leave it for a day and later recall anything significant about that tree?

Artists do this. It's part of the development of an artist's skill set. When an artist looks at a tree, he or she will see not only a trunk, branches and leaves, but also:

• The colors in the trunk and the leaves
• How the trunk sprouts branches and how often, and whether they are straight or curved or gnarled.
• What is the texture of the bark. Does it scale, it is hard or soft?
• How reflective is the trunk?
• Is the tree particularly asymmetrical or is it damaged?
• Does the shape of the tree suggest other objects?
• Does the shape of the tree invoke a feeling?
• What would the tree look like at dusk or in moonlight?
• How dense is the foliage?
• Is the front and back of the leaf the same color? Are they the same texture?
• Is any of the tree wet?
• What would the tree look like in the rain?
• Will it lose its leaves?
• Does it have any parasites or disease?
• How old is the tree?
• Is it starved of good soil?
• Does the tree look fragile or is it dense and strong?

When you next take a trip to an art gallery, ask yourself why you went there. Are you going to spend 18 seconds on each work of art? How long do you need to decide if you like a painting?

It's true that humans who are practiced in skimming and gathering information need only a fraction of a second to recognize a brand or decide to continue to look at a particular web page. But that's not really seeing. It's just looking. We are being conditioned by mass advertising and instant information to skim and view things only at a superficial level.

This is not healthy. It's very good for your brain to fall deeply and intensely into a subject. Slow down and gather real information. Make real and useful associations.

The artist most likely spent many hours conceiving and producing a work of art. Is it fair to dismiss it with a pass/fail status within a few seconds? We all do this, and to be fair there are probably a great number of mediocre works of art that contain no particularly deep or mysterious symbolism or understated subtleties. But now and then, you will find a painting that deserves a long viewing. 

It might take you fifteen minutes to start to really see a good painting. It is likely to take longer. In some cases, it can take years.

Paintings use non-verbal communication. It's a visual medium which can bypass language, transgress nationalities in many cases, and invoke a powerful response in the viewer. There are two occasions where there has happened to me. One was a painting by an artist's work hanging in the National Gallery of Victoria. Unfortunately I can't recall the artists name, but the image, and the feelings that came with it are in my brain for good. The painting was huge. In fact it was overwhelming. There were two parts to the story. It was obviously war time, and the viewer was placed as if a fly on the wall of a domestic scene. It was a peaceful rendering of mother and child, doing something like preparing a meal or some other mundane common scene. It held my attention for a while, until suddenly, as if smacked around the head with a board, I noticed in the distance through the window a small group of men. They might have been carrying something. It was probably a letter. Their body language said it all. Her husband was dead.

That visual side-swipe bypassed verbal processing and went straight to where it hurt. Then slowly more details emerged from within the painting and it became sadder and more powerful as I gazed. Eventually it was too much and I had to turn away.

The second is a painting hanging in the Broken Hill Regional Art Gallery. The painting is one of John William Godward's. He had the saddest artistic career and I'll leave you to research that. But that particular painting was perfect. It glowed. It spoke. The composition was perfect. The details were perfect. It made me look, and look and look and look. The effect was uncontrollable. As it hangs next to other works of art, it dwarfs them not only in technical excellence, but also in pure informational impact. This is a painting that I could look at for years and perhaps never see all that is to be seen in it. Yet I am positive that many people have given it only a furtive glance.