Unconscious tastes

My tastes in paintings have completely changed since I started my degree, but I didn’t know about it. The first I knew was when I spent an afternoon wandering around the Oxford Ashmolean, and found myself looking at their art department in a whole new way.

I never used to be very interested in paintings, but if anything I’d drift towards the very realistic stuff – the paintings, I suppose, that are not-quite-photographs. I now don’t care about them at all, it seems, which was slightly irritating as the Ashmolean has rooms and rooms and rooms of almost-identical portraits (and vast amounts of fine-detail religious imagery), all of which was suddenly of no interest whatsoever. I surprised myself by actually enjoying the impressionist gallery, as well as much of the line/shape/colour based modern art – I like the atmosphere of the former, and the general cheery nature of the latter. But neither of these have ever grabbed me before. How strange.

My tastes have clearly been changed by a few years of generally studying visual imagery, but it’s very odd that it happened without my realising (I don’t subscribe to my tastes having improved, or any of that nonsense – taste is just taste). Maybe one day I’ll start finding sculpture interesting…


  1. I only like it when there’s a giant man fighting off evil babies []