By: mzacha

I don’t know about you, but for me most museum doors open some sort of portal into a parallel reality where time slows to a snail’s pace, and the air and light wash over my brain like some sort of fuzzy, dull hangover. From inside looking out I see the world whizzing by, like the last scene of every Benny Hill Show when Benny was chasing (and then being chased by) a gaggle of scantily clad blond nurses through the park of some London suburb. Good times, good times.

You see, just thinking about it sets me to daydreaming. Back inside, all the other patrons seem to just float there before the artwork, completely motionless or drifting ever so slowly from room to room, turning to view each piece like the hot dogs on those rolling cookers at the 7-Eleven. To them, I must be Benny Hill, quick-stepping through the museum in a jerky blur (only without all the hot chicks in close pursuit.

None of this is ever a problem when I’m alone (although I can’t remember the last time I went to a museum solo), but when I’m with my wife or other serious museum goers, I find it’s virtually impossible to slow myself down enough to stay with them. I don’t want to be rude, but if we don’t pick up the pace a bit my head is going to explode, and that wouldn’t be something that the perfect-husband would do, correct? So I’ve come up with some advice to help us take our time and enjoy the museum.

By: MacTabbie

First off, the main obstacle to your appreciation of art is probably just ignorance. Imagine if you knew nothing about the nuance and lore of baseball. It would probably be a pretty boring game to watch. But once you know all the background, it becomes an intriguing drama. Go to the museum’s website and read about the exhibits they currently have on display. Learning about the art and the artists will make your visit much more interesting. Just as knowing Pedro Martinez’s lifetime stats can make an otherwise mundane game interesting, knowing a bit about Velazquez and his times will suddenly bring an otherwise nondescript royal portrait to life.

Next, realize that despite the Benny Hill hallucinations, time is moving at the same pace inside the museum as it is outside. Rather than letting time run away from you, try to gather it up and appreciate it while you’re there. Use some of the relaxation techniques discussed earlier to focus less on the passage of time and to cultivate an inner calmness .

By: kconnors

If you can get yourself in the proper state of mind, you may find that you are suddenly more open to appreciating the art itself. And that doesn’t necessarily mean liking it. Rather than reading every description of every piece and forcing yourself to find out what you think the art is supposed to be about, just clear your mind and look at it. Try to feel how the art affects you. Does it remind you of anything, or make you feel a certain way? Is it just a pretty picture? The point is, it really doesn’t matter how art affects you, or if it doesn’t affect you at all. Your opinion and interpretation is really the only one that matters. With this in mind, you may find yourself taking more time before each picture, just enjoying the view.

By: pedrojperez

If all else fails, heed that old George Carlin saying that the best laughter is the forbidden kind, that repressed half-laugh that forces its way out at the most inappropriate moments. Museums contain limitless comic possibilities, both from the artwork and the other patrons. I remember when I was once at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York with my Uncle Bud and Aunt Eileen. We were standing in front of a very dark and dramatic painting of a martyred, naked woman. “What a shame,” Bud said very seriously under his breath. “What?” I whispered, assuming he’d share the story of the subject’s tragic demise or the artist’s miserable life. Without turning away from the painting or changing the tone of his voice, he said: “Those were some great breasts.” A blaring, resonant snort escaped my nasal cavity, echoed all the way over to the Islamic Art gallery, and sent a huge flock of pigeons careering past the hot dog vendors on Fifth Avenue. Now that’s what I call art appreciation.