- Kevin Armor Harris
- 22 hours ago
I met up recently with a friend of mine who is an art historian. The last time I’d seen him was at the ‘Turner & Constable’ exhibition at Tate Britain (still another three weeks to run) and he told me he’d seen it four times altogether.
Naturally I immediately asked whether he’d had new insights on each occasion? ‘Yes of course’, he said, ‘especially with the Constable’.
This is a remark from a man who published a book about Constable back in about 1990 (and which is still in print).
The most striking implication is that art of any depth takes receptivity, time, experience, reviewing and reflection in order for us to appreciate it. But the risky part of this is that of necessity, most of us have to take short cuts through such demands. We therefore may count too heavily perhaps on our experience, and spend too little on time, reflection and revisiting a work. I know I do this: for example at an exhibition I will just glance at some pieces, judging that further investment of time will not be as rewarding as dwelling on other pieces. Otherwise I get too tired. Similarly when reading fiction or poetry, or at musical concerts, I might give my mind a short rest for one or two pieces. This seems normal. Life is short, and much quality stuff must escape our attention.
My friend did not say whether or not he thought four viewings of Turner and Constable paintings—for someone already very familiar with the oeuvres—was sufficient to feel he had learned all he could learn. But I suspect he would have said it probably was not.
As a writer, in the past I’ve received rejections to submissions with surprising speed: in one case a work was declined within three hours, on several occasions within 10 hours. It is these instances that I’m reminded of, when recalling the anecdote above. Of course I would like to know the basis on which the editors who dismissed my work so abruptly, took their decision, but of course I will never find out. Vita brevis.
