Ways of Seeing

Venus & Mars - Botticelli

In the early 1970's John Berger wrote a book to accompany his BBC television series, "Ways of Seeing". In the first programme he discussed how, due to the invention of the camera, great works of art were now available to the masses anywhere in the world, unlike in the past when they were only viewed by the few wherever they happened to be hanging. This 'new' technology also meant that details of paintings could be photographed and reproduced to be viewed as separate entities, out of context, and appreciated in their own right.  So whole paintings or parts thereof, could now hang in bedrooms, sitting rooms and boardrooms, offices, railway stations and cafes for all the world to digest. This begs the question, of course, does one get the same feeling as when viewing the original up close and personal, in the stillness of the gallery and in the knowledge of the value of the work? Does the originality of the work affect how we experience it? According to Berger, "The way we see things is affected by what we know or what we believe". He specifically refers to the existence of Hell to middle age man, but if one applies this to works of art, how does this change how we view an original as opposed to a facsimile?

Last summer, whilst in Edinburgh, I went to the National Gallery. It was one of the most blissful days of my holiday and I spent hours in the galleries just looking at the paintings and, in some cases, disappearing into them. Before I left, I went to the shop and  bought postcards of some of the works to paste in to my travel journal, so that when I looked back on my trip in the depths of the Yorkshire winter, I would remember my wonderful day of indulgence. Which is exactly how I remember it. A day of utter indulgence, enjoying being in the presence of great beauty. And I suppose that is the point that Berger is making. Whilst reproductions and facsimiles are welcome access to work that is otherwise difficult to view, there is still no substitute for the real thing, in all it's glory and hanging in the stillness and the silence of it's true home.