When did experiencing great works of art, such as paintings and photographs, become more of an electrical experience than an organic one?
On a recent visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art to see the exhibit, "Picasso and the Avant-Garde in Paris" I was stricken by the vast majority of patrons wearing headphones. They were listening to information about the pieces in the exhibit. Additionally, they were staring at little boxes attached to the headphones, moving in herd style from one numbered painting to another, anticipating the next direction. I thought it was akin to watching a television show on art, but yet your physically in front of the art.
What I believe they weren't doing is personally absorbing the experience of viewing great art. They were missing the experience of viewing, without hearing. Paintings and photographs are not movies or television productions; They were meant to be seen. Additionally they were meant to be discussed. Over 90% of the people at the exhibit had headphones. At least 90% of those folks had the headphones on their heads. There was barely even a whisper during the time I was there; no conversation; no sharing thoughts.
I know this is a very popular way to view exhibits and I'm not saying it's wrong. In lieu of TV and the internet, I am not surprised that people want an audio experience to supplement the visual. But I wonder, in the attempt to satisfy one sense, are they taking away from another?
The broader question is how much are we losing in an attempt to gain more?
After our trip to the museum, my partner and I stopped at a popular Mexian-ish restaurant that we go to occasionally for a late lunch/early dinner. It was busy as I have noticed it to be typically. Since I noticed some booths were finishing up, I thought it would pleasant to have a seat by the window. Even though I signified to the hostess the table I wanted, and there was an agreement that we would have to wait, the hostess gave our table to another couple. When I complained to another hostess about not getting my table, I was met with defensiveness and no apology.
Long story short with the restaurant, a manager did apologize, got us another table by the window and took $20 off the bill. Yet, all in all, we left after our meal with the sense that it did not matter to the restaurant if we ever returned. The apology by the manager was fine. But the initial lack of one from the hostess signified that we did not matter. Why would we? Many people came in before us, many came in after. All appeared to be having a good time. Business is good and there is always a whiner in the crowd, right?
It's true you can't satisfy everyone all the time. But as a business, when you ignore the complaining customer, when does that philosophy become the start of your downfall? If you're sticking your head in the sand because revenue and profits are up, you may pop your head back up too late to realize there is no more revenue and profit.
In an attempt to absorb it all
(trying to seat patrons quickly at a restaurant / experiencing painting by listening)
a little piece of what made something great
(dining experience / letting just your eyes fill you with wonder)
is lost.
Without careful consideration, what is lost will remain lost forever.
Read more
On a recent visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art to see the exhibit, "Picasso and the Avant-Garde in Paris" I was stricken by the vast majority of patrons wearing headphones. They were listening to information about the pieces in the exhibit. Additionally, they were staring at little boxes attached to the headphones, moving in herd style from one numbered painting to another, anticipating the next direction. I thought it was akin to watching a television show on art, but yet your physically in front of the art.
What I believe they weren't doing is personally absorbing the experience of viewing great art. They were missing the experience of viewing, without hearing. Paintings and photographs are not movies or television productions; They were meant to be seen. Additionally they were meant to be discussed. Over 90% of the people at the exhibit had headphones. At least 90% of those folks had the headphones on their heads. There was barely even a whisper during the time I was there; no conversation; no sharing thoughts.
I know this is a very popular way to view exhibits and I'm not saying it's wrong. In lieu of TV and the internet, I am not surprised that people want an audio experience to supplement the visual. But I wonder, in the attempt to satisfy one sense, are they taking away from another?
The broader question is how much are we losing in an attempt to gain more?
After our trip to the museum, my partner and I stopped at a popular Mexian-ish restaurant that we go to occasionally for a late lunch/early dinner. It was busy as I have noticed it to be typically. Since I noticed some booths were finishing up, I thought it would pleasant to have a seat by the window. Even though I signified to the hostess the table I wanted, and there was an agreement that we would have to wait, the hostess gave our table to another couple. When I complained to another hostess about not getting my table, I was met with defensiveness and no apology.
Long story short with the restaurant, a manager did apologize, got us another table by the window and took $20 off the bill. Yet, all in all, we left after our meal with the sense that it did not matter to the restaurant if we ever returned. The apology by the manager was fine. But the initial lack of one from the hostess signified that we did not matter. Why would we? Many people came in before us, many came in after. All appeared to be having a good time. Business is good and there is always a whiner in the crowd, right?
It's true you can't satisfy everyone all the time. But as a business, when you ignore the complaining customer, when does that philosophy become the start of your downfall? If you're sticking your head in the sand because revenue and profits are up, you may pop your head back up too late to realize there is no more revenue and profit.
In an attempt to absorb it all
(trying to seat patrons quickly at a restaurant / experiencing painting by listening)
a little piece of what made something great
(dining experience / letting just your eyes fill you with wonder)
is lost.
Without careful consideration, what is lost will remain lost forever.



