How to Slow Look at Art
In a world that moves at breakneck speed, slowing down to truly see is a radical act. “Slow looking” is the practice of spending extended time with a single artwork, allowing its layers, textures, and meanings to unfold gradually. It’s not about decoding a painting like a puzzle or rushing to understand its historical context. It’s about presence — about being with the art, not just looking at it.
I am sure you have looked at our advertised Slow Looking events and wondered what does that mean? In this busy world it’s about slowing down and perhaps concentrating on a small part of the canvas rather than the entire composition. Bill Hammonds Traffic Cop Bay is a good example of how that first glance is not enough to appreciate the complexity of this canvas.
You can practice your own version of slow looking. Start by choosing one piece. It doesn’t have to be famous or complex. In fact, sometimes the most rewarding slow looking experiences come from unexpected corners of Te Papa. Stand or sit in front of the work and resist the urge to read the label or snap a photo. Let your eyes wander across the surface. Notice the colours, the brushstrokes, the composition. What’s the first thing that catches your attention? What do you keep returning to?
Give yourself time. Five minutes might feel long at first, but push past the initial discomfort. As you settle in, begin to ask gentle questions. What mood does the artwork evoke? What story might it be telling? How does it make you feel — not just intellectually, but emotionally or even physically? You might notice your breath slowing, your shoulders relaxing. That’s part of the magic.
Slow looking is more than visual. It’s sensory and imaginative. Try to imagine the artist’s process. What decisions did they make? What might they have felt while creating it? You can also explore your own associations. Does the artwork remind you of a memory, a place, a person? These connections deepen your experience and make the art personal.
If you’re with others, consider sharing your impressions. You’ll be surprised how differently people see the same piece. One person might focus on the colour palette, another on the symbolism, another on the emotional tone. These conversations enrich your understanding and reveal the many ways art speaks.
Importantly, slow looking is not about “getting it right.” There’s no single correct interpretation. Art is meant to be felt, questioned, and revisited. The same piece might reveal something new each time you encounter it. That’s the beauty of slowing down — it opens space for discovery.
In a museum, you might only slow look at one or two pieces. That’s okay. Quality over quantity. You’ll leave with a deeper connection and a more memorable experience than if you’d rushed through dozens. And outside the museum, you can practice slow looking with street art, illustrations, even advertisements. The world is full of visual language waiting to be read slowly.
Ultimately, slow looking is a form of mindfulness. It invites you to be present, curious, and open. In doing so, it transforms art from something you passively consume into something you actively engage with — something that lives and breathes alongside you.
Wishing you happy slow looking.
Warm regards
Mazz