psychology
Why some things inspire you that leave others cold – and vice versa
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Tastes differ, as do interests and passions. But how can it be that some things make perfect sense or deeply affect some people, while others can’t relate to them? Our author has an idea.
Picasso who?
For everyone who has a similarly limited interest in art as I do: numerous works by world-famous painters are on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Monet, Matisse, Van Gogh, Picasso, there are all the big names here that even we banaus have at least heard of before. Room by room, painting by painting, I looked at the exhibits on the upper floor – I’ll call them “paintings”. I tried to open myself up to them, let them affect me and let myself get involved with them. Some works appealed to me more, others less. Some I found beautiful, others not. Only one thing, I have to admit to my shame, left a lasting impression on me: Van Gogh’s self-portrait with a straw hat. Like I said: I don’t know anything about art.
The touching armor
I had a completely different experience on the ground floor of the museum. Sculptures and cultural objects from the last six centuries are collected here. Limestone statues from 1410. Bronze busts from the 16th century. The armor of King Henry VIII, which weighs almost 23 kilograms and which this man actually wore. Many of the exhibits were imperfect: a nose was missing here, a hand there, and here and there more was lost than preserved. Although hardly any of the names next to the works meant anything to me, I often stood in amazement, deeply moved, and sometimes for minutes in front of them and felt tears welling up in my eyes again and again: the ideas that these cultural assets triggered in me came to me overwhelmed me with full force. A person who spent weeks tinkering with a block of limestone to form the Virgin Mary. Who lives in a world without electricity or sneakers, who knows neither fries nor Aperol Spritz. Floods, earthquakes and battles that later, over the centuries, cost this Mary her nose, her hand, but not her essence, because there was always someone who cared about preserving her. I’m almost in tears again.
For a while, I had no idea what I found on the ground floor of the Met that I was missing upstairs. Then a few months later I read an article in “Psychology Today” that made me think of one thing: I had no stories about the paintings (due to my lack of education), but I did have stories about the sculptures (through a mixture of imagination and historical knowledge).
Experiment: Supposedly expensive wine is more fun
In the article in question, the author addresses the question of why we are less excited about counterfeits than originals. Among other things, she describes an experiment in which the test subjects were given wine to drink, but were given different information about it: In one case it was said that it was a particularly expensive wine. Otherwise it should be any wine. Brain scans then showed that under the first condition – people believe they are drinking an expensive wine – a region of the brain becomes active that makes us feel joy and pleasure when we experience something. This region is called the orbitofrontal cortex. Under the second condition – the test subjects knew nothing about the wine – scientists observed no activity. In both cases it was the same wine.
Conclusion
Like this experiment, my visit to the Met illustrates how much what goes on in our heads affects our perception. And not just on our perception: on our experience. Having information and knowledge (shockingly, in certain circumstances, whether true or untrue) brings us closer to something, makes it more attractive to us, and in some cases may even enable us to enjoy it treasure. If we can use our information and our knowledge to create a story that makes sense to us, that means something to us, that we can identify with, this can turn a simple object into a treasure. Like the owl feather that my father kept in a jar on his desk for years and that I would save from my burning apartment today. Or like the self-portrait of the painter who cut off his ear, which fills millions of people with feelings of admiration, love, connection or pain.
All people have different and sometimes unique stories that they can tell. And maybe we could make the world a little more beautiful for ourselves by sharing it with each other.
Sources used: psychologytoday.com