One of the side-effects of my visit to London in April, and the museums and galleries, is the realisation that I don’t know much about art. I had always suspected as much, but now I have managed to upgrade my level of understanding a little
I could have got this book from the National Gallery bookshop, and I wish I had as it was on special offer… But E.H. Gombrich’s ‘The Story Of Art’ soon got me up to speed. I wish I’d had this book decades ago, I’d have appreciated the world around me – the man-made bits of it – a lot more. (It covers architecture, in addition to painting, drawing, sculpture, etc)
I liked the feel of the book, too. – it’s a nice size and it has ribbon bookmarks to keep your place, and is printed on that thin ‘bible’ paper (not the colour plates section, of course) so it’s a nice object in its own right, even if it wasn’t one of the best textbooks I’ve ever read.
I’ll re-read this again, later this year. And hopefully, get back to the National Gallery to have a really good explore.
What? Why Bother? 