I can see it as an option but would not want this to become the way to interact with art especially at the risk of leaving one more real experience as a private domain of the privileged class. The first day of work in Washington DC after the 9/11 attack saw me heading for the FEMA HQ near the Washington Mall to work a shift as the State Department rep dealing with the international side of the attacks. I was very glad to have time to pop into the National Gallery and spend some time with the French Impressionists before reporting for my shift.
Another really thoughtful article, Lloyd; but as a wall-painting conservator, I think I should draw attention to some missing dimensions. Possibly things that virtual reality will indeed pick up, eventually; and yet and yet... there's such a lot going on with how we perceive the world around us, and not least the painted image. Photos only give you a thin slice of that reality, a bit like 'Flatland'.
This obsession of visitor for taking photographs of famous works was something that bugged me and a few of the others lucky enough to score tickets for last year's wonderful Vermeer exhibition at the Rijksmuseum. So many people took no time at all, not even a second, to look closely at the painting itself, although they'd travelled so far to see it. If they had, it would have helped them realise there was more there in the paintings that the eye could easily see, but the photos can't capture. Some of that is due to metamerism - the CCDs are tuned to be sensitive to particular wavelengths, which are different to those the eye can pick up - and even more is due to texture. You can see that in your first image: the photo reproduction actually looks nothing like the painting, because it's mirror flat.
There is also the special thing that comes from the movement of light - but of course you'll miss that in a gallery anyway!
But finally, there's the odd truth that the pictures in galleries are actually imitating photography: unlike most wall paintings, easel paintings are retouched to an inch of their lives, and then all too frequently finished with matt synthetic varnishes that are very different to the dense shiny oil-based varnishes of the past. The result is something that can be easily photographed, but is very far from what the artist actually had in mind. A bit of name-and-shame here (it's a long time ago): this was strikingly shown a couple of decades back in London, when the Dublin Caravaggio, on its way to its final home after a very sensitive restoration in Italy, was shown alongside the Caravaggio paintings in the National Gallery's collection. These had been treated in the house cleaning and restoration style, and then given a matt Paraloid varnish. They looked just FLAT, in every sense of the term. I won't go into what it is about choice of cleaning methodology or of varnish that produces these effects, but even at the time it was clear to us that the NG approach was driven by the wish to allow people to see the image clearly from every angle. Which also permits photography, of course...
That said, I'd draw everyone's attention to the wonderful resource we now have, with so many great libraries and collections providing digitised images of their medieval manuscripts for free on line. You can even zoom in and examine details. But do be aware that the originals were invariably teeny tiny, and were painted on cockled vellum rather than flat paper. And can a photograph of gilding ever give us more than a faint idea of the wonderful effect it produces in reality, on the moving eye?
I think technology can have a profound influence and make art accessible. But technology alone will not do this regardless of the quality and fidelity of the image. I have been to many, many museums in my life around the world. The experience I remember the most and the one with the most profound impact on me was at MOMA in 1998 for a Chuck Close retrospective. I rented one of those recordings and a wired headset and walked around and this one was recorded by Chuck talking about each piece and why he painted it and the work from the artist perspective vs a curator. This experience was made by the thoughtful execution of this 20 + year old technology…
I can see it as an option but would not want this to become the way to interact with art especially at the risk of leaving one more real experience as a private domain of the privileged class. The first day of work in Washington DC after the 9/11 attack saw me heading for the FEMA HQ near the Washington Mall to work a shift as the State Department rep dealing with the international side of the attacks. I was very glad to have time to pop into the National Gallery and spend some time with the French Impressionists before reporting for my shift.
Another really thoughtful article, Lloyd; but as a wall-painting conservator, I think I should draw attention to some missing dimensions. Possibly things that virtual reality will indeed pick up, eventually; and yet and yet... there's such a lot going on with how we perceive the world around us, and not least the painted image. Photos only give you a thin slice of that reality, a bit like 'Flatland'.
This obsession of visitor for taking photographs of famous works was something that bugged me and a few of the others lucky enough to score tickets for last year's wonderful Vermeer exhibition at the Rijksmuseum. So many people took no time at all, not even a second, to look closely at the painting itself, although they'd travelled so far to see it. If they had, it would have helped them realise there was more there in the paintings that the eye could easily see, but the photos can't capture. Some of that is due to metamerism - the CCDs are tuned to be sensitive to particular wavelengths, which are different to those the eye can pick up - and even more is due to texture. You can see that in your first image: the photo reproduction actually looks nothing like the painting, because it's mirror flat.
There is also the special thing that comes from the movement of light - but of course you'll miss that in a gallery anyway!
But finally, there's the odd truth that the pictures in galleries are actually imitating photography: unlike most wall paintings, easel paintings are retouched to an inch of their lives, and then all too frequently finished with matt synthetic varnishes that are very different to the dense shiny oil-based varnishes of the past. The result is something that can be easily photographed, but is very far from what the artist actually had in mind. A bit of name-and-shame here (it's a long time ago): this was strikingly shown a couple of decades back in London, when the Dublin Caravaggio, on its way to its final home after a very sensitive restoration in Italy, was shown alongside the Caravaggio paintings in the National Gallery's collection. These had been treated in the house cleaning and restoration style, and then given a matt Paraloid varnish. They looked just FLAT, in every sense of the term. I won't go into what it is about choice of cleaning methodology or of varnish that produces these effects, but even at the time it was clear to us that the NG approach was driven by the wish to allow people to see the image clearly from every angle. Which also permits photography, of course...
That said, I'd draw everyone's attention to the wonderful resource we now have, with so many great libraries and collections providing digitised images of their medieval manuscripts for free on line. You can even zoom in and examine details. But do be aware that the originals were invariably teeny tiny, and were painted on cockled vellum rather than flat paper. And can a photograph of gilding ever give us more than a faint idea of the wonderful effect it produces in reality, on the moving eye?
I think technology can have a profound influence and make art accessible. But technology alone will not do this regardless of the quality and fidelity of the image. I have been to many, many museums in my life around the world. The experience I remember the most and the one with the most profound impact on me was at MOMA in 1998 for a Chuck Close retrospective. I rented one of those recordings and a wired headset and walked around and this one was recorded by Chuck talking about each piece and why he painted it and the work from the artist perspective vs a curator. This experience was made by the thoughtful execution of this 20 + year old technology…