The Art of the Pilgrimage

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Photo: "Spiral Jetty" by Robert Smithson, constructed in the Great Salt Lake, Utah in 1970

Chapter 9: The Art of the Pilgrimage

Over a hundred years ago, the author tells us, Walter Benjamin predicted that mechanical reproduction would eradicate the aura of the original art object for the masses that are ‘bent toward overcoming the uniqueness of every reality by accepting its reproduction.’ Benjamin offered the prospect that eventually any work of art in the world might be available in reproduction at the touch of a button or a click of a mouse. But, Kimmelman argues, the opposite is true. There’s been a notable increase in the number of people visiting museums, galleries and other art-specific sites. Nevertheless, We did lose something during the last century … it was a sufficient appreciation for the virtues of the pilgrimage.

The author takes it a step further. He enjoys visiting a work of art where it was made; for example, a fresco on a Renaissance chapel wall or an earthworks project in the Nevada desert. The point is A modest pilgrimage may restore to the act of looking at art in its desired and essential otherness. It can get us back to the root of art as an expression of what’s exceptional in life. How true!

Kimmelman points out that All art is site-specific in the moment that we are looking at it, being affected by its surroundings, whether the context is a crowded museum or a friend’s living room or an empty chapel, but perhaps especially art that is itself the reason you went to that place. That makes a lot of sense to me. For over forty years I’ve made the annual pilgrimage to view one particular painting in a certain museum. It’s a time of renewal and regeneration for me and also helps me better understand that single work of art.

Artists make works one at a time, Kimmelman adds, which is how we should experience them. The ethos of giant exhibitions, with dozens or hundreds of paintings, is antithetical to the conception of a work of art. I agree with this statement as well. When there’s too much to see then there’s nothing to see. I go into sensory overload and don’t spend the amount of time that I should viewing any single work of art. More is not more.

Kimmelman dedicates most of this chapter since to descriptions of art-specific sites that he visited mostly in the western part of this country. It makes a good read.

Next time I’ll post the final chapter of this book.
Have a great weekend, everybody!

What your thoughts?