#124: I stare at one painting for 3 hours
Ruminations on my 3 hours with A Sunday on La Grande Jatte
Several weeks ago, I cross-posted my friend Michael’s experience with looking at Thomas Cole’s The Fountain of Vaucluse for 3 hours. I loved what he had to say about attention and I was jealous of his experience. I knew I had to try it for myself.1
The perfect opportunity came along in June while on a buddy trip in Chicago (with the same Michael!). The Art Institute has an incredible collection of art and I was reminded of this quote from Four Thousand Weeks: “A finite life is a matter of ceaselessly waving goodbye to possibilities.”
Deciding to spend 3 hours with any single painting meant waving goodbye to all the others, such as the Van Gogh exhibit, the much-parodied American Gothic by Grant Wood, a large selection of Monet, Picasso’s The Old Guitarist, and Morisot’s Woman at Her Toilette.2 I would have loved to spend 3 hours with any of these, but I could only choose one.
The choice
I ended up choosing Georges Seurat’s A Sunday on La Grand Jatte
A big reason for choosing this painting was the bench close by for when my feet needed a break. I had a small notebook, a pen, and a camera (my phone on airplane mode). I also had half a pack of mentos and 4 pink starbursts in my pockets for sustenance. I was ready.
Start the clock
As I started the 3-hour timer, a couple things became evident: One, the painting is very popular and everyone wanted a photo of it or with it. Two, Seurat’s pointillist style begged for examination up close:
Wanting to be polite to the photo takers (and not wanting to be in dozens of other people’s pictures), I came up with a strategy of rushing up, taking a couple pictures up close, then retreating to my bench to study them.
Stream of consciousness
Here’s a bit of my stream of consciousness along with some of the photos I took. You’ll notice quickly that I have no education or training in art.
(0:02) “Is that a monkey? It is a monkey! She has a pet monkey. I’ve never noticed the monkey. I’m so observant. I’m so glad I’m doing this experiment so I can notice all the details that I would have missed otherwise.”3
(0:20) “I can’t believe I’m nowhere close to being done. I feel like I’ve stayed way beyond the ‘normal’ time period for looking at a single piece of art.
(0:25) “The big guy in the foreground is looking straight ahead through his monocle, but is the woman looking side eye? Is she looking at me?”
(0:30) “What’s going on with that instrument? Wouldn’t the sound come right back at him?”
(0:35) “Are there any little boys in this painting? Or just adults and little girls?”
(1:00) “This is actually getting easier since people watching is also fun.”
(1:15) “Surely I’ve seen every detail, admired every dot of color, and I can call it a day! What else is there?”
(1:16) I started noticing how flat the faces are and how they lack detail.
(1:24) “I wonder if I have any text messages.”
(1:25) “If wish I had a ladder so I could see some of the details at the top.”
(1:40) “About a hundred people have commented that they didn’t know it was this big.”
(1:50) “How crazy would it be if I saw someone I know?”
(1:55) “What’s going on here? Is that guy wearing an umbrella hat? They had those back then? And is that a ball wrapped in a scarf on a boulder or the back of a large shapeless person with a small head?”
With about 1 hour to go, an art class came through and sat around my bench. I “snuck in” and listened to their discussion until they moved on. Great stuff on divisionism, optical mixing, and the muralist style. I had a big goofy grin the entire time because it felt like my self-imposed patience had been rewarded: After 2 hours, I had finally learned something.
(2:30) “I need a snack, time for some starburst and mentos.”
(2:40) “I love seeing so many people at an art museum! Art is not dead. People are cultured!”
(2:41) Overheard: ‘I like how she has that thing on her butt. It’s kinda hot.’
(2:59) “I hope this fancy guy with his shirt untucked a little in the back is cooling off with his feet in the water. Take care of yourself friend, I’m out!”
What I learned
When the 3 hours were over, it was 20 minutes to closing time. Michael, being the good sport that he is, ran around with me on a lightning tour to show me the highlights. This was a mistake because dang, there was some awesome art in there and I started feeling some regret. I wanted to spend, if not 3 hours, at least 20-30 minutes with many of them.
Sometimes I feel like I can’t pay attention, like I’m addicted to my phone (which my screen time numbers would support), or like I can’t do deep work. I don’t think this experiment proved otherwise, but it did give me some confidence that I can disconnect, set my mind to an uncomfortable task, and have a unique experience.
Let me know if you try this yourself, I’d love to hear about your experience.
Kyle
The idea comes from Jennifer Roberts, an art history teacher at Harvard, and was highlighted by Oliver Burkeman in Four Thousand Weeks (which I wrote about here).
I wanted to spend the 3 hours with Woman at Her Toilette, but it was on loan. Major bummer.
Fun fact: Lots of people notice and comment on the monkey almost immediately.
So that's the painting that inspired Sondheim's musical, Sunday in the Park with George, which I'll admit I have not seen. Seems like pairing that musical with a viewing of the painting would be fun.
I really love this, Kyle. (I wrote a whole paper on that monkey for an art history class, once upon a time 😊 )