Art and I

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A Chromecast backdrop displayed on my TV: a photograph by Aravind Ravisankar of a beach and a rock and a sunset. I thought, why did they include that person? Shouldn't it be a picture of pure nature? Then I thought, maybe that's OK, but do we need to see the tripod next to the person?

The human provides scale. And it's appropriate for a high-tech image to to remind us that we humans interact with our environment. And the tripod, well, it reminds us that the camera taking this picture likely was mounted on a tripod. And I decided that the human figure and the tripod might just contribute to the art of the image.

I was also reminded that I am no expert on art. But that shouldn't mean I can't appreciate it.

One of the things I like about this picture is the reflection in the wet sand of the colors of the sunset. The muted colors reflected don't match the real thing. Art itself is like that reflection.

We can look at a sunset and say that's nice, and then get on with things. We can look at a photo or painting of a sunset and say that's pretty, and then get on with things. Or we can pause for either and try to absorb, however incompletely, that beauty. We can stop and appreciate the privilege of witnessing it.

The art I like most does more than paint a pretty picture. It helps us look at the world around us. It tells us this is worth looking at, to look some more. I went to a modern art exhibition once and one of the works was some rumpled cast-off paint tubes glued to a substrate. My initial reaction was that this wasn't art and it held no beauty. But then I looked more closely. The random pattern of wrinkles and dents in the tubes was interesting. We may admire the surface of a rough sea on those rare occasions we have the opportunity. Why not notice a similar surface on everyday objects, even ones being thrown out?

There is beauty of different types all around us. So much of it I fail to notice or don't appreciate. I read once that a single leaf on a common weed contains more mystery than we can possibly absorb or understand. We cannot see all that makes up a leaf, but we can learn to look at it and try to see it and consider how it differs from other leaves. There is more beauty and wonder in this world than we can possibly grasp.

Art I like reminds me of this. It asks me to stop and look. It might not even be pretty but it nudges me toward beauty. Toward noticing. Toward enjoying what's always all around us.