The texture of paint on a surface is a strange thing. From the great artist to a 5-year-old child, the texture–the way the paint goes on the surface– is extraordinary to see and feel. There are those that apply their paint smoothly almost as if trying to recreate the smoothness of a mirror, and then there are those that slap it on with a palette knife, creating thick shadows that pop out. It is this that cannot be captured in a photograph, the defining difference between seeing a picture and seeing the reality.

Texture. Light. Technique. Materials. A painting, a sculpture, a trinket, or a table are not made of photography paper, they cannot be “captured,” there essence is unique.

You have to get out and see the art of the world. You have to feel how the light and shadows play, off of a Van Gogh. You have to see how massive the paintings of the renaissance are…But most of all, you need to experience art. Art is a reflection of time. Art is a reflection of the human condition. Art is a reflection of the world. We need art, because art helps us understand the beauty and sorrow of the world.

Recently the AIGA group at my university made a weekend trip out to Chicago. While there, we had the opportunity to visit the Art Institute of Chicago. I have been to quite a few art museums in my lifetime, but every time I am surprised by what is there. And, oddly it is not the paintings, sculptures, and etc that I “know”–the ones covered in art classes or featured on the discovery channel–that I spend my time being amazed by, but the interactions between people and the art.

People interact with art very strangely, almost as if they are afraid of it. This is particularly predominating when the work is particularly famous. They keep their distance, as if the work is going to bite them. They talk in hushed tones (far more quite than when they are near the “lesser works”) as if fearing the judgment of their God/s for their opinions. But, mostly, they stare with their mouths open in awe.

But I always wonder, do these open jawed people realize what they are seeing is far more than just a Caravaggio or a Velazquez? Do they see all the interactions? Do they? Do they see all the “stuff” that isn’t on the canvas? Sure the image may be worth a million words, but there is always a billion more hidden just off the right. Hidden in the room, hidden in time, hidden in the minds of the people around you.

At the Institute they are hosting an exhibition containing several of Caravaggio’s paintings and it makes me sad. After seeing a few of his paintings outside of a museum. I feel that it is a complete disservice to the master. They need the darkness of stonewalls, and the hidden alcove of an Italian church. They need not suffer the harshness of modern lighting, which seems only to glare off the varnish instead of illuminating the masterwork. They are not home­–but would we, the masses, ever see his works outside a museum? Probably not.  I suppose, It is better for him, and all the other masters of the world to have a home in a museum, I just wish the museums could understand more about the light, and less about fitting people into the room. And for goodness sake, use more diffused lighting!

One of my favorite things about museums has always been the element of exploration. What is around the corner? What is in that room? … Oh, what is this? When I go to a museum I try not to look for certain things. I like to roam, just looking into rooms, without an agenda. I always find the more “set” a person’s agenda is when they walk into a museum the less they see. They just breeze past all the other works, passing by them with closed eyes. They are there for painting X, and painting X is all they seem to see. Even if they spend as much time in the museum as the roaming wonderer, they seem only to have painting X on mind. I think it kind of ruins the experience, but that is (like much of what I say) a personal opinion.

At the end of the day, I feel that there is one important thing to remember when you go out to see art. Experience it, and experience the world surrounding it. A painting, a sculpture, a film, a table, a freeze, a  …. don’t exist in a vacuum.