A season ago I was one of three judges for a quilt exhibition, and during this exercise we based our choices on digital photographs. I have a large good quality monitor and thus can see close-up pix in detail; but had not been asked whether I perhaps work only from a laptop. So much of a textile piece of work is alive in its presence - and which can be diminished when reproduced as a photo, no matter how well taken. On the other hand, how else would we have international exhibitions without amazing expense.
But have we become immune to the attractions of work which needs close looking, long looking, to be appreciated? Do we increasingly crave instant but fleeting gratification?
I see so many folks going over to Instagram and leaving blogs, and get the feeling that it's soon going to be all show and no tell. A flick-book can be great fun, but I must admit that I do appreciate the input of substantial content.
At the exhibition inspired by Virginia Woolf's writings at the Pallant House Gallery I came across a quote that got me thinking about all of this. I found that the exhibition just has so many pieces of work which need attention, time, contemplation, further thinking, that I began to suffer from mental indigestion.* I sat down to take time watching a video and read the label which included the following quote:
We launch out now over the precipice.... The cliffs vanish. Rippling small, rippling grey, innumerable waves spread beneath us. I touch nothing. I see nothing. We may sink and settle on the waves. The sea will drum in my ears. The white petals will be darkened with sea water. They will float for a moment and then sink. Rolling me over the waves will shoulder me under. Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me.
From The Waves 1931 by Virginia Woolf.
I read that and closed my eyes, and there I was: over, in, under the sea. Of course as someone who makes pictures I far from want to eliminate them. But do we want to evolve into folks who communicate not only by instant images, but also caption them with emoticons! I do hope not.
*I bought the catalogue and have been able to spend more time thinking about individual works. The ideal would have been to go back day after day, concentrating on a handful of works at a time. But, in the absence of that solution exhibition catalogues are wondrous gems - or they can be. Unfortunately I just HATE the design of this one. The design definitely gets in the way of the content, when the whole purpose should be to clarify the content.
What? No photo to accompany this post??? ;-) I'm sure you know I am of the same mind regarding this subject. And I applaud your daring to give us a text-only post. I occasionally write those thoughtier posts for which there really is no reason to add a photo but subconsciously I fear some might skip over it entirely if the eye wasn't momentarily caught by an image & so I go looking for something to add.
ReplyDeleteWhat an image that quotation evokes - I could see it all in my mind's eye, carried along with each change. An "inspired by" piece of art would spoil the experience or at least not live up to it, much like the movie version of a favorite book often does. But I know that's not always the case. pairings as in this exhibit often creating something larger than the sum of its parts. I can relate to the overload. Sometimes more is simply more and the experience overwhelms to a point of near numbness!
We are agreeing with each other all round!
DeleteI have learned over the years not to mind about missing items in an exhibition, and simply to go where my eye and my curiosity lead me. There simply is not room enough in my brain for everything, and much better to savour those items that do fit.