I Don't Want to Go Look at Art

When my children learned we were going to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, their disinterest was clear from the start. But a trip to see "Spoonbridge and Cherry" was our post-Paisley Park gift to dad, once his patience wore thin from our Purple Rain karaoke, and the three of us left him to nap. Underdressed for the 20 degree weather, however, we quickly changed plans and headed indoors to the Walker Art Center. 

While schools still dutifully shuttle students into cultural institutions for field trips, I've noticed that children are otherwise infrequent museumgoers. Officially sanctioned "Family Days" come and go, yet I want to embolden families to go at any time.

​I understand the trepidation. Despite the implicit invitation to peer closely, mine had to be reminded to not actually touch Yayoi Kusama's "Passing Winter" once they discovered their infinite reflections inside the mirrored cube. ​

image courtesy of Walker Art Center

I also put the kibosh on their impulse to run in circles around Teresita Fernández's "Supernova (6)," no doubt thrilled by the feeling of spinning and potentially falling into her concentric circles.

image courtesy of Walker Art Center

Although momentarily embarrassed, I understood that they "got it."

Art can transport you to another world, ​if only momentarily. ​

​
​When children want to inch closer or linger longer, we should slow down and join them. The average museum goer spends only 15-30 seconds looking at a work of art, speedily categorizing works as aesthetically pleasing or not, but missing out on the chance to sit longer and be transformed. Fortunately, when your mother is a teacher, stopping to talk about artworks is inevitable.
​
We marveled in disgust at Yuji Agematsu's daily collection of found New York City sidewalk trash from April 2008, wondering how it might compare to what we'd find in our schools. Or bedrooms.

image courtesy of Walker Art Center

They noted strong disapproval of Sophie Calle's unauthorized photography of hotel guests' belongings, likely while worrying about their own unsupervised suitcases.

image courtesy of LA Times

​We thoughtfully considered where we'd each like to be buried, after reading Calle's "North Pole" series about achieving her mother's unfulfilled dream.

image courtesy of Walker Art Center

Twice we sat through "The Hikers," a masked ballet by Rashid Johnson, deciding that friendship can indeed bring peace and strength to people who otherwise feel alone.

Slow looking at art sparks conversations and pushes thinking. 

When encountering new visual stimuli, don't overlook the opportunity to discuss what you see. Reflecting in community with others offers the occasion to share our values and learn from different perspectives.

Hands down, their most beloved work in the Walker was "Jordan Wept" by Astria Suparek and Brett Kashmere. A commentary on legacy and popular culture, the nearly 9-minute long compilation of crying Michael Jordan memes bookended our tour.

​Two hours after we'd arrived in the museum, laughing in the dark theater alone, they decided they actually did enjoy going to look at art.