People often ask me how I manage to spend so much time in galleries without getting bored.
It’s very simple.
I never go to look at paintings.
Now, before the curators start hyperventilating into a tote bag, allow me to explain.
Whenever I walk into a gallery, I give myself a secret mission.
You may have heard the rumour that, before turning to comedy, I spent several centuries undertaking delicate assignments for MISex – the Government’s Secret Seduction Service. Officially, I can neither confirm nor deny this. Unofficially, many of the skills transfer beautifully to galleries.
The trick is to stop behaving like a student revising for an exam and start behaving like an adventurer. Galleries aren’t places to collect facts. They’re places to collect stories, characters, beauty and the occasional glorious scandal.
So, here are my five golden rules for spicing up a gallery visit.
Rule One: Treat every gallery like a cocktail party
The moment you walk through the door, imagine you’ve arrived at the most glamorous drinks reception in history. Every painting is a guest, and your mission is to mingle and collect what I call ‘the juice’.
Who’s showing off? Who’s flirting? Who’s desperately hoping someone notices the new velvet doublet? Who would you avoid being trapped beside at dinner? And perhaps most importantly, who would you shamelessly flirt with?
The paintings become infinitely more interesting the moment you stop looking at them as paintings and start treating them as people. Don’t be afraid to wink. History rather likes being noticed.
Rule Two: Follow the gossip
People think galleries are full of dates.
Personally, I prefer the gossip.
Every portrait has an affair behind it. Every masterpiece has an ego attached to it. Somewhere in every gallery lurks a betrayal, a murder, a family feud or somebody making a truly catastrophic decision – or trying desperately to persuade the world they hadn’t.
Take Charles I. He was barely five foot four, yet somehow managed to commission portraits on horseback that make him look capable of taking on Rommel. Every time I stand in front of Van Dyck’s magnificent portrait in the National Gallery, I’m reminded that portraiture has always been public relations with better lighting. The question isn’t whether Charles really looked like that. The question is why he wanted everyone else to think he did.
History becomes wonderfully memorable once you realise it wasn’t populated by marble statues. It was populated by gloriously complicated human beings.
Rule Three: Spend longer with fewer paintings
One of the greatest mistakes visitors make is being too promiscuous.
Apparently the average person looks at a painting for only a few seconds.
Instead, treat your paintings like a lover and spend some quality time with them. Ask questions. Why were you painted? Who paid for this? What happened immediately after this moment? What aren’t you telling me? Would I actually go on holiday with you?
I once spent half an hour with a Dutch still life of cheese and grapes. By the end, I was so engrossed I swear I could taste Edam.
The more time you spend with a painting, the more it begins to reveal itself and you get to experience it.
Rule Four: Become a beauty thief
Whenever I visit a gallery, I steal something.
Not literally. The Louvre and I came to an understanding years ago.
I steal beauty.
Perhaps it’s the way light catches a pearl. A beautifully painted sleeve. A mischievous smile hidden in the background. The magnificent antlers in Monarch of the Glen, which practically demand a quiet appreciative grunt. Last week I challenged myself to count every redhead in a painting at the National Gallery. It was infinitely more entertaining than reading the label (I lost count by the way).
Leave every gallery carrying one beautiful thing away in your imagination.
Rule Five: Always leave wanting more
Museum fatigue is a very real condition.
After about an hour, even my brain starts quietly making excuses.
So I never try to see everything. I’d much rather meet five fascinating people than rush past five hundred.
Leave while you’re still curious. Leave with one scandal you’ll repeat over dinner. Leave with one painting you’ll think about tomorrow. Most importantly, leave looking forward to coming back.
This August, if you’re enjoying the Edinburgh Art Festival, I’d love you to join me on one of my comedy tours at the National Galleries of Scotland, where we’ll meet artists, monarchs, villains and visionaries exactly as they deserve to be met: as brilliantly human beings with impossible egos, questionable judgement and extraordinary stories.
Then, each evening, I’ll be dashing across town to Underbelly George Square for my Edinburgh Fringe debut, Coco The Time-Travelling Tart.
After all, history has spent hundreds of years waiting for you.
The least you can do is stop and say hello.
Coco the Time-Travelling Tart, Underbelly George Square , until 30 Aug (not 18, 25), 9.45pm