Jennifer Dasal - ArtCurious: Stories of the Unexpected, Slightly Odd, and Strangely Wonderful in Art History

I make my living surrounded by artloads of it. As the curator of modern and contemporary art at the North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh, North Carolina, my days are spent roaming our galleries, researching the collection, and gleefully debating the merits and connections between works of art. While being this close to the art is enough of a reward on its own, I think one of the best parts of the job is meeting fellow art lovers: those who reminisce about childhood field trips to the museum, praise a recent reinstallation, or ask about the location of a particular painting as if it were a long-lost friend. These peoplethe ones who wax rhapsodic about brush strokes and craftsmanship, about symbolism and inspirationare my people.

However, you might be surprised to hear that I like meeting committed non-art types just as much. Regularly I am introduced to those who slept through college art history classes, snoring over a professor droning on about sfumato and contrapposto. I hear from museum patrons who admit that their visit was influenced not so much by the art, but by the museum cafs excellent burger and sweet potato fries. There are the students sheepishly revealing their presences as merely a concession to art-friendly grandparents. There are also the people who pause to stare at a work before inevitably demanding, point-blank, Whats the big deal anyway? Similarly, some feel uncomfortable even setting foot inside a museum, alienated perhaps by a lack of exposure to the arts and a fear that they will be unable to understand them, or a sense that the art world was never quite welcoming in the first place.

Art just isnt everyones thing. I get that.

It may come as a shock to you that an art historian like me could, in fact, be uniquely suited to sympathize with these art doubters, but I am. I truly relate to those who proclaim, time and time again, that art just isnt for them.

I can relate because I used to be them.

Art most definitely wasnt my thing when I was growing up. Instead, I was predisposed toward words, so when I began writing stories as a young child, I was happy with my narrative structure and character development (even if the names of said characters left something to be desired. A unicorn named Beautiful? Really, five-year-old Jen?). But the idea of illustrating my own tales made me squirm uncomfortably on my desk chair. Grasping a variety of crayons and markers, I would scrawl away in hopes of bringing my words to life in an aesthetically pleasing manner. And I was always disappointed at the mess that materialized on my page, rather than the masterpiece I hoped to see.

Not that I fared much better within a structured artistic environment. Picture me, a middle schooler, armed with nothing but a pencil, an eraser, and a piece of paper. Im given one directive: I, and my fellow students, have exactly five minutes to draw a perfect circle. No compass, no rulerjust our bare hands maneuvering the most basic drafting tools. Dont worry, our art teacher assured us, you can erase as much as you want. But youd better get as close to a perfect circle as you can! Letter grades will be given.

This dreaded circle exercise began every art class during my middle school years. To this day, I have no concept of how useful this exercise is or if it is a common educational method. But Ive never forgotten how my artwork was scrutinized for middle school course credit or how it made me feel. This must be what art is all about, I told myself. And its torture. I suspect some variation of these events has affected others out there too. Maybe even you.

And thats a real shame. Because, as I was about to discover, art can be so much more.

By the time I reached the start of my freshman year in college, I had successfully avoided art at all costs, focusing my energies on science instead. I declared my major early and proudlygeology, with a paleobiology emphasisand planned all my courses out accordingly: chemistry, calculus, earth sciences. I was