A Sports Management Major Takes an Art History Class

I needed credits in the arts and humanities and made the mistake of assuming that "Why Art Matters" would be a simple and straightforward inquiry to answer, despite being enrolled in a months-long course dedicated to responding to the question. I figured: We can all understand the importance of art, right? And yes, to a degree, the title was what the course strove to answer, but it was quite a bit more involved than that—more than what I had bargained for and was prepared for, and certainly involved enough that I never felt inclined to casually skip a lecture without reason. (I promise, that sometimes felt like a momentous task when walking to the West Bank on icy sidewalks mid-February.)

One of the projects of the course was a presentation on a piece of art locally held in Minnesota. There was leeway given, room enough for open-ended interpretation of the task at hand and to make me unsure of where to start. Truthfully, this was the project I was most nervous about throughout my entire semester of classes. Sure, at this point in my studies, I’ve done plenty of projects and presentations, but they were primarily on topics like motorsports, or the Canadian Hockey League. When given even the smallest bit of choice on a given project, I usually gravitated more towards writing about sports. Presenting anything to do with art, especially a project titled “Become an Expert,” felt daunting and out of my usual comfort zone.

It is not that I regarded art as something less than, or without meaning. The problem really was I felt as though it were anything but. Growing up in performing arts, surrounded by the means to color and draw, the arts had always held value for me, even though it was a skill-set that I never felt I truly acquired. I didn’t truly feel well equipped to present a piece of art and confidently detail its meaning and significance. Art was something I dabbled in, but that sort of surety of its knowledge seemed out of reach. Where does one even begin, especially with something conceptually abstract?

Out of Pocket, but Looking Closely

I started by looking around, beginning locally at the Weisman Art Museum on campus. I chose artworks I found beautiful and ones I thought looked challenging to create; some confused me, and others immediately conveyed layers of additional meaning. As suggested by the professor, I chose some pieces I thought I could connect with, hoping I could draw from my own personal background to find a way in. As I explored the Weisman's collection online, in the end there were about 20 different pieces that stood out in some way to me.

And then I got stuck. I liked all of them, in different ways and measures, and wasn’t exactly sure how to narrow my selections down to one singular topic. A friend came over, and he sat next to me on the floor of my dorm. We went, one by one, through photos of sculptures, paintings, drawings, and posters. I explained what I thought of all of them to a relatively quiet—for the first time since I’d known him—audience-of-one. After exhausting all the points I could think of to winnow my choices down, 15 still remained. And so he would ask questions, and I would answer: Which ones do you actually feel drawn to, research-wise, and not just for how they look? Ten. What sort of medium do you feel more comfortable about writing and presenting? Five. Which of these last five stands out to you? One. He went back to drawing and eating chips on my floor, and I began to stare at the last standing painting on my computer screen for five minutes: Evil Eye, by Bigan Dowlatshahi. 

Then I got stuck again, this time on where to begin my research.

"Becoming an Expert"

I went back to lecture the following day and started by looking up both the artist and the painting. First search results: the very artistic and historic site of LinkedIn—perhaps not the best start, but it was something, nonetheless. I made a separate Google Doc and put links of every site accessed, with notes from each one.

And suddenly, I felt unstuck. I had some basis to work with. I thought it would be best to apply the same idea as before; better to have too much and narrow it down than to have not enough and be vague. Scouring the lecture and discussion slides, I tried to look up anything and everything I could, taking those ideas and running to library databases, books, Google Scholar, anything peer-reviewed (and not behind a paywall; I'm in college after all). 

My thinking process went something like this: The lecture a bit ago about iconography—that must apply here in some measure. Similar artist and artwork—there’s definitely something that could help, even if I have to reverse image search and find similar images. And what about historical, cultural context? Well, actually I couldn’t really find too much there. But we spent a whole week covering art and its religious affiliation and I can find something there, surely. What was the religious connotation of the evil eye? What were the qualities of the muslin canvas? How is Dowlatshahi’s Iranian heritage evident in the Persian influence in his work—this painting, and others? Go from the simple and general to something specific: a sentiment largely communicated by both my TA and my professor. And so, the Google Doc I started earlier slowly filled up with links and with notes from each thing I learned. My class project, little by little, began to fill up with relevant information on each slide. 

I rather impatiently awaited feedback from the TA and professor after submitting my "Become an Expert" project. Somewhere along the line, I found that my original nervousness around the course had become a sort of investment. An otherwise quite daunting project evolved into something I'm proud of now, even if there are things I would have done differently, looking back. (Like starting a bit earlier than I did, or having a more well-carved script, rather than saying “um” every other word the first few run-throughs.) 

This was an ultimately difficult course, and project, that felt entirely out of bounds for me at the beginning. But I had people—both classmates and faculty—that gave genuine, constructive criticism until I felt confident and comfortable in my work, and in my ability to learn something entirely new to me.  Before this class, art was something in which I’d had interest, but that felt out of bounds, something for “true artists” and not for a then-sports-management-major student. Over the course of the semester, though, doing this work, that art path became something that I knew I could do.

Image credit (above): Bigan Dowlatshahi, Evil Eye, 1969, acrylic on muslin canvas, 41 1/8 × 38 in. Collection of the Weisman Art Museum at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis. Gift of Abby Grey. 1979.11.5

Related information

WATCH: Grace Watkins' class presentation on Evil Eye, for the project "Become an Expert"

Art History (ARTH) 1002W, "Why Art Matters," with Dr. Jane Blocker is part of the spring 2025 line-up of courses

Weisman eMuseum: Bigan Dowlatshahi, Evil Eye, 1969. Acrylic on muslin canvas. Gift of Abby Grey. 1979.11.5