Tag Archives: Slow looking

Twitter, tumblr, and Slow Art: oh my!

Posted on by

If you follow Slow Art Day on our various social media channels, you might have noticed an interesting conversation unfolding this week over whether programming like Slow Art Day can succeed in today’s fast-paced, digital environment. It all started when Sarah Bailey Hogarty from the de Young & Legion of Honor Museums looped us into a conversation happening at the 2013 Museums and the Web Conference:

Screen Shot 2013-04-23 at 9.04.33 AM

Of course, we had to respond!

Screen Shot 2013-04-23 at 9.05.22 AM

Which opened the floodgates for more dialogue and opinions from both sides:

Screen Shot 2013-04-23 at 9.07.43 AM

While twitter is fantastic for short, 140 character thoughts, we wanted to address our thoughts on the power of slow looking in a longer format, so our Social Media Manager Alie Cline took to the Slow Art Day tumblr to respond to Koven Smith’s initial concerns about Slow Art. Focusing on the ideas of slow looking and engagement, the post details how Slow Art Day can work within digital culture, “…so people can share their insights, observations, and engage with the artwork in a way that reaches beyond just the initial reaction of “I like this” or “I don’t like this.” Make sure to check out the entire post on our tumblr!

We love the thoughtful and respectful dialogue that took place on our social media channels – make sure to follow Slow Art Day on Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr for more conversations like this one!

Slowing Down at Museo MARCO

Posted on by

[Slow Art Day has asked its 2013 hosts and volunteers to write short summaries of their own experiences looking slowly at artworks of their choosing.]

After looking around the Museo Marco, I chose the artwork The Fuck Off Project by Daniel Ruanova to examine patiently as part of the initiative of Slow Art Day. There were, no doubt, other pieces that called my attention, but the idea of examining this particular piece interested me the most. This artwork consists of a series of metallic rods that are assembled into a set of pointy extrusions. It almost looks like a “wire frame” (like those seen in animation programs) of the back of a porcupine.


Daniel Ruanova. The Fuck Off Project. 1976

At first glance the work certainly seemed aggressive. Although not insulting (at least until you read the title), I initially did not want to get near it. Each of the protrusions appear to be directed toward the viewer, independent of the viewing angle. Judging by the name, I thought that this was precisely the motive of the artist – i.e. to portray aggression.  That made me think of similar shaped things in nature that convey the exact same defensive idea, like pufferfish or the porcupine, and I concluded that the artist may have been inspired by such animals.

Despite my apprehension, I decided to slowly approach the piece. As I got nearer, I noticed that the feeling of aggression became stronger.  I decided to actually walk into it and that changed my experience of the piece completely. There, inside it, I felt protected. The metallic arms were no longer pointed towards me but towards everyone else. It’s as if now their sole purpose was my defense. I sat down to be able to immerse myself deeper, and, as expected, the sense of security was intensified. There, in the midst of all those metal rods, I felt comfortable.

The next thing I noticed was the facial expressions of the people in the museum when they noticed me there. Assuming they shared the feeling I had felt while looking at the sculpture from the outside, I could understand why. I sat there for awhile, watching people pass looking bewildered.

I now understand the Slow Art Day initiative in a better way and can see how slow looking can really transform the experience.  Looking slowly and taking the time to move in and around this artwork completely changed my perception – and – this insightful episode reaffirmed my decision to be a host during the Slow Art Day for Museo Marco in Monterrey on April 27.

– David Zambrano Reyes, Volunteer at MARCO

[Make sure to check out Museo MARCO’s Slow Art Day event in Monterrey, Mexico.]

Take a Slow Look, Canada

Posted on by

Slow Art Day has asked its 2013 hosts and volunteers to write short summaries of their own experiences looking slowly at artworks of their choosing.

The day of my assignment, I strode into the gallery with purpose; J.E.H. MacDonald’s October Shower Gleam, 1922, was the only work I was going to spend time with that day.  This work did not initially outwardly appeal to me – I felt like I was up for a challenge to see what it would be like to look at it slowly.

J.E.H. MacDonald, October Shower Gleam, 1922. Image courtesy of WikiPaintings.

I set my alarm for the proscribed 10 minutes, and set my eyes (and mind) to work. What initially made the painting unattractive to me, the garish 70s mix of close-to-neon colours with earthy greens and browns, I set my eye to first. Looking closely at what I read as autumnal trees and brush, I soon discovered a graceful patterning of organic shapes in the entirely unnatural colours of bright pink and teal, outlined in ultramarine blue, with a ground of gessoed and textured canvas showing through. As my eye traveled downwards, towards the reflection of the landscape in the still lake, I realized that MacDonald’s depiction of water consisted solely of a reflection of the patterning I had been closely studying.

What I read as “water”, in fact, didn’t contain something normally characteristic in depictions of water; namely the colour blue. MacDonald actually had painted a ground of light orange onto which he had then transcribed his reflected scenery. Sandwiching this mirrored landscape was a mass of roiling clouds, done in wavy lines of lavender and deep purple, as well as a rocky outcropping of land containing a few windswept trees in the foreground. They squished me into the landscape in such a way that I felt like my only escape was forward, toward the rolling hills and the two small “V’s” of clear sky – away from the October shower that was imminent, seen in the shiny wetness of the purple clouds.

My “introduction” to the work lasted a mere minute or two. After that, I was lost in the landscape, its patterns, shapes, colours, and texture, until my alarm rudely interrupted. Ten minutes felt like two; I could have easily spent another ten or twenty minutes immersed in the work.

Though not initially appealing to me, I grew, through this exercise, to appreciate aspects of the work that weren’t immediately apparent. Practicing slow looking with a work I wasn’t immediately attracted to in a positive way helped me remember that to “like” and “dislike” are fluid categories (and don’t always include “appreciate”). I was also reminded not to always take other people’s word for it – it is always more rewarding to see for yourself.

-Tori McNish, Slow Art Day volunteer

Viewing Art, Being Present

Posted on by

From time to time, we post short articles from Slow Art Day hosts. The article below is by veteran Slow Art Day host, Paul Langton.

A rainy day. I am early for an appointment. An opportunity to go to a gallery for forty or fifty minutes, without expectations? I realise don’t actually know what is currently on at the gallery.

Fortunately I listen to my intuitive self, and a few moments later find myself in the Whitechapel Gallery, exploring Mel Bochner’s fascinating work. But, I become aware that his exhibition would need more time than I feel I can allow. I then go into a room with a single sculpture. A tree. Immediately fascinated I walk around the sculpture. I notice the materials used – gold leaf, bronze. I feel at home in the space and decide to spend some time in this room.

Spazio di Luce by Giuseppe Penone at the Whitechapel Gallery (image from the Whitechapel Gallery website – click the image to visit)

A well-placed bench allows for some slow art thinking. Who is this by? What is it doing here? I walk around, I sit down. I walk around again. I go and read the information about the sculpture. I ask the attendant if I can I touch it.

The exhibition is very peaceful. Occasionally people come in and I notice their reactions to the piece, yet I am pre-occupied by my own thoughts. I feel I am in the right place at the right time, as though I was meant to see this piece today. I love the way each time I view the tree it look different and I love the light further illuminating the gold leaf, shining light on this wintry day. I walk alongside it and see it from different angles. I don’t hug but I do touch.

The sculpture, I find out, is Spazio di Luce (Space of Light) by the Italian artist Giuseppe Penone and is a Bloomberg Commission, in the Whitechpael Gallery until September 2013. Space and light, they seem ideal words. It’s good to find out it will be here for a few months, and another visit will be possible. I realise I may have seen some of Penone’s work before as part of Arte Povera at Tate Modern, but I couldn’t be specific.

I have been thinking of trees in the last few weeks and the importance of trees – there was a fascinating discussion on the radio the previous month about trees with James Aldred and Mark Tully – and this sculpture adds an extra dimension to my current feelings and thoughts. I reflect on nature, art, myself, others, and art as part of life.

The light in the title becomes so appropriate as I leave the gallery, literally feeling lightened and uplifted. I then wonder on how something so beautiful and fascinating just appeared in my day without notice. In my head I thank the artist and the gallery, for being presented with and for being present, for some time, with this wonderful sculpture. Please visit if you can.

(If you are not able to visit a video of the artist talking about the work is on line: http://www.whitechapelgallery.org/exhibitions/the-bloomberg-commission-giuseppe-penone-spazio-di-luce).

The Whitechapel Gallery is one of 160+ Slow Art Day venues for 2013. Click here to find out more or register.

– Paul Langton

Note: An earlier version of this piece first appeared in Paul’s blog: http://artsandmoresw4.wordpress.com    

MOCA Jacksonville Urges Patrons to Look Slowly

Posted on by

The Museum of Contemporary Art Jacksonville, a new host for Slow Art Day 2013, is exploring the concept of slow looking in an exhibition SLOW: Marking Time in Photography and Film that runs through April 7, 2013. Exploring the work of seven internationally known artists- Eve Sussman, Kota Ezawa, Sam Taylor-Johnson, Chris McCaw, Idris Khan, James Nares and David Claerbout- the museum challenges visitors to engage with the works for an extended period of time.

The exhibition features work that explores topics of time and duration through the fields of photography, film and video. In an age of mass production and instant gratification, the works in SLOW compliment and challenge one another as they confront typical perceptions of photography and the time-based restraints of a work of art.

Artists such as Eve Sussman and Sam Taylor-Wood give life to paintings past. Sussman, in 89 Seconds at Alcazar, animates the famous painting by Diego Velasquez, giving the viewer a look into the life of the painting’s characters before and after the composition. Along the same lines, Taylor-Wood, in Still Life, explores the work of the 17th century Dutch paintings by filming the decay of fruit plates, altering the viewer’s perception of time.

Other iconic videos that speak to one another are that of James Nares and David Claerbout. Nares’ Street, is a video work in which passersby seem to be frozen in time as the viewer moves along in real time whereas Claerbout’s work explores the relationships between the still photograph and the moving image, forcing the two to co-exist in his large, video installations.

The exhibition SLOW, also showcases the work of artists who explore different processes in photography such as Idris Khan’s appropriative work that consist of multiple layers, created the illusion of extended gestures and moments in time.  And, yet, the viewer’s sense of time continues to be affected with Chris McCaw’s sun-etched photographs that track the sun and Kota Ezawa’s cut paper assemblages of iconic photographs.

Curated by MOCA Jacksonville director, Marcelle Polednik, Ph.D. SLOW is the museum’s landmark exhibition for 2013. Of the exhibition, Polednik says, “Time is not only the conceptual thread that binds all the works in the exhibition together, but also the real dimension that connects us to these explorations, providing we devote the seconds, minutes, or even hours to see them unfold. In taking the time to fully engage with these photographs, films and video works, we gain infinitely more than the minutes we spend.”

If you are in the Jacksonville area, be sure to stop by the Museum of Contemporary Art Jacksonville to see this exhibition for yourself. And don’t forget to take your time. We look forward to seeing what MOCA does on Slow Art Day to continue the dialogue they have started with SLOW: Marking Time in Photography and Film.

-Dana-Marie Lemmer, Global Coordinator

Slow Looking at the Modern Art Museum in Fort Worth

Posted on by

Slow Art Day has asked its 2013 college interns to write short summaries of their own experiences looking slowly at artworks of their choosing.

Mark Bradford Kingdom Day 2010 580x388 The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth celebrates 10th anniversary of building designed by Tadao Ando
I went to the Modern Art Museum to look slowly at Mark Bradford’s “Kingdom Day,” a mixed media collage covering roughly 38’x 38’. Mark Bradford is one of my favorite artists so I really wanted to dive into this piece…and just look.

This piece overwhelms pleasantly in its rich detail and intricacy. It requires looking both at a distance and up close to gain a full sense of it. Up close, I can see the texture of the lines carved into the layers of what looks to be thick sheet of paper or cardboard, that are either painted over, scratched through, or exposed in tiny bits here and there to give hints of its original appearance.

After looking up close, I move to about 10 feet away where I can see the whole thing at once.  In this view, I can see larger patterns in the lines scratched into the surface, and I am able to read the four individual canvases that were put together as pieces of a narrative, each telling a different story.

I naturally begin to move along the piece in this way, seeing each canvas as a series of messages. The first canvas has the word ‘Kingdom’ at the top. The engraved lines look like a satellite view of a city, with tight grids and patches that mimick the patterns of streets and neighborhoods. There is a black patch that looked like the shape of an angel flying over, which gives it an ominous feel, like the city was being haunted. The next two canvases are more sinewy and abstract; the grids become more complex and intertwined, and are less representative of a city. I can make out faces behind all of the lines, making me think of people in jail behind bars. The ravaged surface and destroyed parts of advertisements remind me of corruption or war.

I get lost in the bright colors, lines, and layers that overwhelmed my eye.  I move to the last canvas. I notice the word ‘Day’ at the top, both framing the piece and reflecting on its title. This canvas has the most pink in it, which suggests a dawn or a new hope to me. The lines once again become more orderly and city-like, and an arrangement of black shapes behind the lines look like a city skyline against the pink background. I get an immediate sense of optimism despite the ravaged appearance and various allusions to crime, corruption, or war. For me, the piece seems to resolve in that last canvas, but I can look back on the first three and still feel the energy and uneasiness through all of the lines, layers, and faces.

When I am satisfied with looking at the piece, I look down at my watch and discover that I have been gazing for 18 minutes. 18 minutes? I am amazed at how much the time had flown past, yet how much I have experienced and thought about compared to what I would have seen from just a cursory glance. I feel so much more enriched than I normally do from looking at art – and I normally love looking at art.  The effect of just slowing down and focusing on the art is incredible, and similar I think now to the feeling of meditation.

I will not only continue working on Slow Art Day as an intern, but will definitely be doing some more slow art looking in the future, and I encourage you to do the same. And if you are in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area soon, go to the Modern Art Museum and look slowly at this wonderful piece by Mark Bradford.

[Mark Bradford’s Kingdom Day (2010) was viewed in the Fort Worth’s Modern Art Museum as a part of their permanent collection.]

-Adrienne Parker, University of Texas