Picturesque novels and more general literature can beautifully engage historical narratives in ways dry textbooks fail to deliver for us, the impromptu learners who scorn formal guidance in such matters with an air of impudence.
Here I tend to note intriguing topics for later research and must have thus acquired seventy percent of all historical or pseudo-historical insight. And now my multi-tiered backlog expands to frightening proportion.
Alternatively, historical programming YouTubers might not test your patience if you can bear the meta-commentaries, the cleverly integrated sponsor promotions and the rather particular humour.
I’m not strictly of such patience. The approach thus doesn’t compel me but in some less developed secondary language. And I most certainly miss much detail, rarely fully attent, satisfied to even passively hear the language spoken at the customary eighty-five to ninety-percent velocity.
Over the past two-three years I’ve also engaged museums of heavy historical byproduct somewhat more rigorously. Though this method has demanded a hell of an effort.
Very broadly speaking, I’ll appeal to the following dichotomy:
- Museums placing heavier emphasis on some visual arts or crafts
- Museums emphasizing the historical, or more generally, some academic element
Especially across the larger galleries, if you’re anything like me and consume exhibits like conscientious coffee (not merely gliding along to exert no more than a glance of an eye which I find as good as time squandered), both categories can severely exhaust, physically and mentally.
I don’t think I’m of a particularly high IQ and thus experience certain strain on the attention and imagination, with all that seemingly endless matter materializing at every bloody step.
No less crucial are the aching legs and the sour lower back. After even two hours of this I’m stretching and battling sheer pain, the muscles undoubtedly further aggravated through mental fatigue.
Across the rather sizable (that is, gigantic) world-class art institutes visited under this conscientious paradigm, I only recall the Prado and the Art Institute of Chicago. (Must have visited more when younger, but simply glided by in the baser ways mentioned above.) Each of these can demand dozens of hours to conscientiously explore: per my take, intractable in anything less than several visitations.
Now the second - historically-academically oriented category presents additional challenge. The extreme case, alas, all too frequently encountered, accompanies every forsaken artifact with a lengthy essay. Reading these one after the next to no foreseeable end for the next two leagues, in the overly air-conditioned, overstimulating environment, muscles aching, contentious figures roaming about, can be more stressful than hitchhiking.
Then to even negligently skim all the text can consume from two hours for the smaller galleries to upwards of ten or more for the gigantic. Inconceivable for one or even two visits. So how to mitigate?
One way is to strategically disregard. Instead, jot down brief referential notes intended for research in the supposed comfort of your home. Can’t say I’ve always followed up in the ways of strict diligence, but lately more often than not.
Alternatively, photograph every wall essay, description or the visual representation rousing curiosity and warranting further research.
For me, this photo-journaling approach also speaks considerable work, so I better be damn sure to later peruse all this matter, read and extract the intriguing bits for my personal archives.
Ideally, purchase a museum membership (for a paid entry museum), should you be fortunate to reside in town and the museum offer such an option - the world-renown museums tend to. Then frequent in more manageable micro-intervals: if, that is, you’ve the convenience to actually reside in some fixed place for long enough.
But to embark on one of these ‘walking wikipedia’ tours and simply glance at pictures is a poor choice of time spent if you ask me.
Questions, comments? Connect.