tl;dr: if you find visual art boring it might be because you haven't seen it yet.
Visual art can provide soul-sustaining value to those who appreciate it. It does for me. I don’t want to say too much theoretically about the what and why of art, for reasons that will become clear. But I want to reassure you that I am an advocate of rational thought and analysis, and I think art absolutely can admit such discourse. I also think that art can be objectively good or bad, and many things labelled “art” are not even art, in the sense I use the term. But I think such conversations are counterproductive to the goal of receiving value from art.
The way I grew to love visual art seems to be different from how others typically approach it, or from what is taught in art appreciation classes. So if you are a person who currently doesn't get anything at all out of looking at visual art, and you are game for an experiment, here is what worked/works for me:
Go to an art museum that includes diverse works. A small museum is less overwhelming; if you only have access to a huge museum, plan to visit only a small part of it. If you are in/from the Western world I’d recommend starting with museums whose collections span Western art history from at least 1400 -1950. Earlier and later periods and other parts of the world have gems, for sure, but you don’t want to miss out on those years of Western art, and I'd wager most rationalists will find something that resonates within that time period.
Solitude is key. Go alone, or agree with your companions to decouple for the first hour to try this exercise – and not to discuss it or ask any questions about it when you reunite, for at least 24 hours. Otherwise, too much of your mental space will be occupied by thinking about what you will say later.
More important than what you do, is what not to do. Absolutely do not read the little plaques on the wall. Do not take a docent-led tour or get a recorded tour on headset. In fact, if you accidentally bump into a tour guide explaining an artwork, go the other way. Stop yourself the moment you catch yourself thinking anything like: Who was the artist? What is the title? Have I seen this artwork before? Is this famous, or great? What era or region is this from? What is this style called? What techniques were used to make this? Was it hard to make? What was the artist’s social and cultural context? How original or innovative is this compared to other art that came before it, or that I have ever seen? Why is this labeled “art” or placed in a museum? You can engage those questions for other reasons another time if you want to. But if you are new to consuming art, such thoughts will most likely kill your chance of learning to receive art.
Once you are inside and alone, take a deep breath and try to quiet your analytic mind and enter a state of nuanced receptivity[1]. For the next hour there is nothing for you to succeed or fail at. Your goal is just to be acutely conscious of your visual perceptions and the subtle emotions or sensations within your body that might or might not be evoked. Don’t force yourself to study every piece. Walk into each room and briefly look at each piece, resting your eyes on it just long enough to see what it is. If you notice that something grabs you, give yourself permission to pause and look at it for a few minutes. It doesn’t have to be a deep feeling or a good feeling; don’t try to name the feeling or even discern its valence. Walk up to the piece and look at it closely. Cross the room and look at it again from a distance. Try to notice, not name, what you actually see, and how it feels. Continue looking until you find that you’ve lost contact with the feeling it evoked. Make a note of it (if allowed, take a picture with your phone) so you can find or remember it later, and move on. For a person who doesn't already love art, an hour is plenty of time to spend in an art museum. If it starts to feel like work or you lose touch with nuanced receptivity, take a break, or quit for the day.
If you get through a whole museum and nothing strikes you, you are free to leave, but if your first impressions warrant, you might want to give it a second pass to see if anything jumps out at you anew. Walking in the reverse direction helps, so you enter each room from the other perspective. It’s fine to pass through every room in an entire museum and not see a single thing that grabs you. It’s also fine to be stopped in your tracks in the first room, stare at one piece for an hour, and miss the rest of the entire museum. I’ve had both experiences. Typically I spend 20-30 minutes quickly browsing through a small museum or show in its entirety, and then circle back to the pieces that most struck me and spend the rest of my time with those, until I get tired. I've noticed that I seem to be the only person who does this.
If something does move you, I recommend resisting the temptation to analyze or interpret it, or articulate what the meaning of the piece is, or explain why it evokes the feeling it does in you, at that moment. Save that for another day. Resist second-guessing whether you ought to have this response, or what it might signal about you if people knew how you felt about it. There is just too much risk of sliding into intellectual analysis or self-judgement or social signaling, and losing the directness of its impact.
For me, once I've picked a favorite to spend time with, I try to mentally block out everything else (the walls, other artworks, other people) so that I'm only aware of that one piece. I like to sit down, if seating is available. I start to name in my mind what I actually see. “Snow, in the woods, a frozen stream... not snowing now... weak daylight... tree trunks... human footprints, one person walking from there to there... animal footprints elsewhere, seem unrelated... a broken down fence? anyway something manmade, but rustic... finer branches and dried reeds... snow piled up on them.…”[2]
Maybe I start to notice that I like this part of it, but not some other part, or I notice that I wish a certain aspect were different. Perhaps I notice that it reminds me of a particular experience or place I have been, which may come with associations. All good. Introspectively, some people may be able to focus on physical sensations in their body, but I personally find this difficult. I focus on noticing emotional tones - when I enter this universe, does it feel comforting? disturbing? cheerful? dark? cozy? aching? etc.
On my way out, I like to go to the museum shop and buy postcards of any pieces that struck me, and keep a scrap book of those.
That’s it. You might have to do this a few times before anything starts to click, but it’s not too time consuming or painful. Try different museums. It’s worth periodically going back to ones you thought were “just ok” but nothing in particular struck you, because the things you need or are ready to receive will change over time.
The skeptic may be thinking: “sure, but give me one reason to think this will ever get me anywhere.” I will write another time my theoretical thoughts about what the value proposition of art is , why rational humans need it, and how I think it delivers this value. I'm avoiding that now because engaging that theory could ruin the above experiment.
By "nuanced receptivity" I mean both a state of heightened perceptual awareness (of the external world as well as your internal body), and a state of emotional unguardedness. In my experience, this state is difficult to find for many smart rational people, may initially be uncomfortable, and may require persistent practice to find it at all. But it is a learnable skill, and this state can be entered to a greater or lesser extent.
As a side note, a bonus benefit of practicing seeing art may be strengthening the capacity for nuanced receptivity in other domains of life. I find this capacity to be crucial for making and sustaining close personal relationships (romantic or other), and it seems likely to be important for receiving other types of art, engaging beneficially in psychotherapy, and perhaps for enjoying the benefits some receive from being in nature, interacting with animals, or doing yoga.
After writing this, I happened to go to a museum in a city I was visiting, and made a point of noticing what was going through my head when looking at a particular painting. I didn't read the plaque so I can't tell you the title or who it was by, although I did take a picture of it, a detail of which is the splash image.