Disparate thoughts of a wandering art historian
‘Grand Tour’ is synonymous with the formative trip across Europe that every cultivated gentleman of good stock was encouraged to undertake in the 18th and 19th centuries. Next to the canonised old masters and the casts of classical statues, the paintings immortalising continental monuments and landscapes (preferably featuring the grand tourist pointing at them) became a regular feature of art collections as hallmarks of sophisticated taste and education. The Alpine dramatic landscapes and the sun setting on Roman ruins in the bucolic campagna romana, were an endless source of inspiration that tickled the Romantic eye and mind. Firmly enshrined in a visual repertoire, the visit to these celebrated sites developed into an act of (self) recognition. Socio-technological progress, namely more efficient and (eventually) affordable means of transport, profoundly changed travelling in the course of the 19th century. Europe became much more interconnected, photography provided more candid, faithful images of its monuments, cities, landscapes, and peoples. Escapism to fantastical and fantasised places presumably untouched by modern civilisations was enabled by colonialism. Globalisation, charter flights, and low-cost airlines made the world an even smaller and charted place.
In an increasingly digital world, seeing works of art in the flesh, experiencing collections in their real museum space, or visiting a historic building or site still hold an allure, a deep attraction, or even, an auratic value. And not just for an art historian like myself. A far cry from the systematic exploration of a Grand Tourist, this section collects pictures, facts, tales, reflections, and annotations for an errant and unruly travelogue across familiar places and beyond.
The art historian’s notebooks
Like a pilgrimage to Mecca, visiting museums and monuments is an inescapable duty for any devout art historian. The ecstatic thrill of being face to face with the originals – the verdammte Originale as Erwin Panofsky called them – is a most rewarding and somewhat addictive experience that is akin to a form of worship. Not unlike a pilgrimage, the journey is often as important as the destination, providing context to a monumental site, or a three-dimensional depth to a work of art. Before the digital age, art historians or connoisseurs recorded their reflections in notebooks, sketchbooks, and journals. More than a memory aid in their scholarly arsenal, these jotters contained their fresh impressions and recorded the mystique of the visual encounter.
Taking a leaf out of more notable predecessors’ notebooks, I decided to leave a trace of my ‘pilgrimages’ beyond impermanent Instagram storytelling. The Jotters featured in this section are intended as scrapbooks chronicling my unsystematic meandering near and far, and the overwhelming, childlike joy felt in front of the ‘damn’ originals.
period eye 