Cameras Ruin Museums
I went to the Louvre yesterday and didn't have a great time. I had feared that would be the case. John can vouch for me when I say that I strongly disprefer crowds, and the crowds at the Louvre... terrifying. My complaints are several:
1) There are straight-up too many people there. Vast crowds of them. You can't move but into someone else. Perhaps I was there on the wrong day, but Thursday seems as good (bad?) a day as any other.
2) It is very loud. All I want at art museums is peace, quiet, and something to look at, walk around. At the Louvre, objets d'art abound, but I found neither peace nor quiet (except for about sixty seconds in one of the Islamic art rooms).
3) Cameras. Are they banned there? They must be right? Maybe not... I mentioned in my previous post my distate for the documentation fetish—yes I realize it's ironic to write about that—and I've never felt it stronger than watching thousands of people doing nothing but run from painting to painting, whatever they recognized, snapping snapshots (in the most pejorative sense), for what? So you can go home and say your friends, "Look! I was there! Aren't I cool?" As if your poorly lit, poorly framed, poorly executed photograph captures anything more than a Google Image search?
Of course, just taking a picture of the work isn't proof you were there. For that you'd have to be in the picture with it. My favorite (most painful) moment came shortly after I happened upon Canova's "Cupid and Psyche," pictured here:
Few crowded around. The emotion in the work is so powerful, so palpable, so perfect, and despite my frustrations I managed a smile, shivering as I circled it. Inevitably the crowd returned. Tour groups and randoms, armed to the teeth with audioguides and cameras. Here I noticed a major problem with cameras in museums: framing anxiety: you feel guilty for getting in the way of someone's precious "shot."
I backed away and got to watch several people pose in front of the statue for pictures. I was livid (and I shouldn't have contained myself). Aside from the fact that you're wasting your time with the statue looking away from it, documenting an experience that is not actually happening, you further ruin your already worthless 2-D image of this 3-D masterpiece by appearing in it. What remains is a photograph of nothing but your vanity, you reduced to "your deep slavering need to stand jowl to cheek with perfection" (in the words of David Foster Wallace).
And "people" don't really "know" Canova. If you haven't seen it, just imagine the absurdity surrounding the Mona Lisa or the Venus de Milo, two images that are ruined by their popularity.
1) There are straight-up too many people there. Vast crowds of them. You can't move but into someone else. Perhaps I was there on the wrong day, but Thursday seems as good (bad?) a day as any other.
2) It is very loud. All I want at art museums is peace, quiet, and something to look at, walk around. At the Louvre, objets d'art abound, but I found neither peace nor quiet (except for about sixty seconds in one of the Islamic art rooms).
3) Cameras. Are they banned there? They must be right? Maybe not... I mentioned in my previous post my distate for the documentation fetish—yes I realize it's ironic to write about that—and I've never felt it stronger than watching thousands of people doing nothing but run from painting to painting, whatever they recognized, snapping snapshots (in the most pejorative sense), for what? So you can go home and say your friends, "Look! I was there! Aren't I cool?" As if your poorly lit, poorly framed, poorly executed photograph captures anything more than a Google Image search?
Of course, just taking a picture of the work isn't proof you were there. For that you'd have to be in the picture with it. My favorite (most painful) moment came shortly after I happened upon Canova's "Cupid and Psyche," pictured here:
Few crowded around. The emotion in the work is so powerful, so palpable, so perfect, and despite my frustrations I managed a smile, shivering as I circled it. Inevitably the crowd returned. Tour groups and randoms, armed to the teeth with audioguides and cameras. Here I noticed a major problem with cameras in museums: framing anxiety: you feel guilty for getting in the way of someone's precious "shot."
I backed away and got to watch several people pose in front of the statue for pictures. I was livid (and I shouldn't have contained myself). Aside from the fact that you're wasting your time with the statue looking away from it, documenting an experience that is not actually happening, you further ruin your already worthless 2-D image of this 3-D masterpiece by appearing in it. What remains is a photograph of nothing but your vanity, you reduced to "your deep slavering need to stand jowl to cheek with perfection" (in the words of David Foster Wallace).
And "people" don't really "know" Canova. If you haven't seen it, just imagine the absurdity surrounding the Mona Lisa or the Venus de Milo, two images that are ruined by their popularity.
posted by duke at 01:30
2 Comments:
oh come on, matt...i mean, i see your point and totally agree, but then again some people (like myself) both look at the work carefully AND enjoy taking a picture of it to remind yourself of all the work that you have seen, which can sometimes get lost in the sea of art that abounds on a trip. granted, i would agree with you that i could never forget seeing canova's cupid and psyche (which, conincidentally, is my favorite sculpture in the world) but a picture can also bring back memories, when you view it later, of what it felt like to stand in the presence of such an amazing work of art. so, although i think you are right in saying many of those things (and, let's face it, most of those tourists didn't necessarily appreciate the work of art in the same way that you did) i don't necessarily think that everyone that is taking pictures of the work is ruining their experience in it.
haha plus, it's something that you can take away with you from your experience at a museum...we all know memories can fade, and after paying your exorbitant entry fee, at least you can look back over your trip and have momentos that jog your memory of what you saw.... :)
anyhoo, sounds like you're having an amazing time, i'm SO jealous you got to go to the louvre, no matter how crowded it was (and just remember, most tourist attractions are crowded because of just how amazing it really is...) and that you enjoyed it somewhat. xoxo
Yeah I definitely agree that it's possible to enjoy the work and take a picture of it too. What I meant was that it's difficult for me to enjoy museums while other people are taking pictures around me. Sorry for not making that clear. I realize I'm being harsh, but I think you would agree that there are obvious offenders that do nothing but take pictures.
Post a Comment
<< Home