10 Minutes to Art: How to Prepare for a Museum Visit Without Feeling Lost - Pt. 2
Part II of "Why Is Art History Relevant?"
Let’s be honest: I never really answered the question in Part I. I teased art history, brushed past it with a Miranda Priestly reference, and told you to make it meaningful. But here's the twist. Some of you actually wanted the lecture I avoided.
Most people do not know how to walk into an art museum and actually see the art. I say this with love, because I have been there too. As someone who has read countless art books and stood reverently in front of more canvases than I can count, I have still found myself looking around wondering, “Now what?”
Museums can be overwhelming. With older art, we fall back on phrases like, “Can you believe they painted that 500 years ago?” or “Look at that technique!” With contemporary or conceptual work, it is often easier to copy the “oohs” and “ahas” of others, snap a photo, and head to the gift shop.
And that is fine. We all start somewhere.
But what if, before you even step inside, you gave yourself just 10 minutes? Not to research or Google “top five things to see at the Louvre.” I mean 10 minutes with yourself.
Start With You
Did you swear under your breath this morning when your dressing gown caught on the door handle? Feel like snapping at someone for no reason? Ask yourself what is going on. What is bubbling underneath?
One of my favourite books, Art as Therapy by Alain de Botton and John Armstrong, makes a striking argument. Art is not about prettiness. It is about need. We turn to art for what we lack: peace, clarity, escape, or understanding. They write that “beauty can make the actual ugliness of existence all the harder to bear.”
Art can reflect your own story back to you. That might be a hardship, a harsh truth, or a quiet longing for something better. Maybe a barren tree speaks to your own withered dream. Or a pastel landscape reminds you of the life you are trying to romanticise on Instagram (which, let’s be honest, is quite wholesome).
Look Through That Lens
Once you have done that emotional check-in, take it with you.
That one strange painting in the corner that makes no sense? Do not walk away just yet. Maybe it is meant to make you uncomfortable. Maybe it reflects a part of you that you do not often acknowledge.
Even noticing one detail, a splash of colour, a distorted face, an odd choice of lighting, can open something up. Why is that one face glowing while everything else is in shadow? That is probably chiaroscuro, but I will not go full Ross from Friends on you (yet).
And if the only takeaway is something like “Gainsborough’s smug landowners made me want to join a union” then that is still a win.
Let the Art Work on You
You might walk out of the museum having connected with only one piece. That is better than wandering through masterpieces without feeling anything at all.
Or maybe something deeper happens. Maybe you walk away feeling seen. Maybe you realise you are not the only one yearning for beauty, softness, or clarity. Maybe you feel comforted in your melancholy. Or curious about a discomfort you did not expect.
Even boredom can be useful. If a work provokes defensive boredom or irritation, ask yourself what it is poking at. Art offers a safe space to explore confusion, resistance, or quiet emotional chaos.
Final Thought
You do not need to know the difference between a Baroque masterpiece and a banana taped to a wall. You just need to show up. Be curious, be open, and be a little bit honest with yourself.
Because no amount of knowledge will ever replace the ability to feel art.
So the next time you head into a museum, pressed for time, overwhelmed, or emotionally off-kilter, take 10 minutes first. Not to search, but to reflect.
Art is personal. Let it be.
P.S. Keep an eye out for Part 3. I’m finally going to give you the art history you asked for. No sidestepping this time, I promise.