Input: looking at art, at home

Circling HomeWork #29

Creating a home in which art can survive involves not just one’s own artwork, but also other people’s. Today I am writing about visual art, in particular, that lives in our home—artworks that I look at on a daily basis. (I hope to revisit this topic in the future as well. Whether with new or shifted visual artworks at home, or to delve into other types of art that we experience in our domestic spaces such as books, films or television shows watched on home devices, or musical recordings.)

There’s something lovely about living with artworks, like a person, on an ongoing basis. Certain familiarities are able to unfold that just can’t be recreated through a trip together. When visiting a museum or gallery, time is limited. Even if you take an opulent slow looking approach¹ (most of us spend just seconds looking at an artwork as we walk by) closing hour comes, and anyway—it’s hard and uncomfortable to stand on hard floors for that long. The longest slow looking programs I’ve seen in museums (in-person, not a virtual pandemic-era program) usually spend 15 or 20 minutes on a single work, maybe up to 45 if the entire tour focuses on just one selection.

On the other hand, we spend so much time at home. Even if you’re a person who is out and about all the time, by nature of sleeping and getting ready for the beginning and end of each day, the time adds up. Two blue paintings hang directly in my line of sight when I’m sitting up in bed, whether waking for the day, sitting in bed reading, journaling as I often do in the morning, or sitting and working from home on my laptop. I’ve spent a lot of time looking at them while sitting back against the headboard. One, by Amy Applegate² is a warmer blue abstract still life of small wooden blocks, and the other by Kelsey Blacklock is a more cool, nighttime landscape.

I’ve been thinking about shifting around some of the things I have hanging up in our apartment this spring—I have a few new pieces to display, and springtime feels like a good moment to rearrange some as well. Do you ever walk down the opposite side of the street than you usually do and feel totally transported by something you walk by every single day but hadn’t noticed before? It’s a good feeling, an aliveness that reminds me to pay attention. Rearranging a living space offers a small hit of that.