Presence: do you feel it?

A cathedral has presence. So does the Grand Canyon. So does a tiny, perfect shell you pick up on a beach.

In my view, good art has presence, and that is not a random mistake. It doesn't matter if it's a painting of a softly lit rose or an abstract sculpture sprawling across a courtyard. It should nudge (or even catapult!) you toward a realization, an emotion, a higher level of sensory experience. Artists use scale, color, control (or lack of it) to take you somewhere, into another presence.

Presence is a visceral thing. It has to do with your own particular soul. Give an abstract painting a moment. Let it have a chance to deliver its vibe before you start scanning for what objects you see in it, or even what's supposed to be "good" or "famous" about it. There is no club or accomplishment involved here. You have no obligation to "get" a secret code. Just stand and receive, and stop wrestling for the steering wheel.

It’s a skill we’re losing: staring, gazing, taking things in. We’re all hyped on thinking mode all the time. Never-ending email, alarming news, the creeping, constant invasion of social media have all trained us to be on alert and feel as if we have to respond all the time. You have all the receptors you need for art, but they’re being used all the time for something else. Reclaim some. You can find them. They’re the same ones you used every day as a kid, marveling over the smell of a bakery, the softness of a kitten, the joy of warm mud. They’re still there. Using them is a pleasure you richly deserve. It requires some focus, some openness, some lack of assumption, some slowing down.

So here you stand, in front of a painting a person has made – by hand, over time – just to deliver its presence to you. Take your time. Nothing is required. Feel what you feel. What do you feel? And would you like to feel it more often?

And this is why people hang abstract paintings in their homes: to feel that presence more often. If a painting energizes you, you can put it right where you need that energy. If a painting soothes you, you can lift your eyes to it and rest in it when you've had a tough day.

Is this helping? I hope so. Next time we’re going to move on to another way to use those precious art receptors of yours, and this one involves a little more thinking, but not too much.

Presence Links to Explore

Check out the quiet, contemplative, deeply happy work of Agnes Martin.

https://www.pacegallery.com/artists/agnes-martin/

http://harwoodmuseum.org/exhibitions/view/59