Arguably Marcel Duchamp said: A title is another colour on the artist's palette..."
You could say that our understanding of a work is ‘coloured’ by an accompanying title.
Whether, say, on reading a title beside an painting you are reassured, enlightened, or bewildered, they are an extra dimension to the work, and influence the way the work is received by you.
In a gallery setting we tend to read the titles last. You want the painting to assert itself visually before anything else. The perception of the title needs to come later. Perhaps it comes into its own in a catalogue because they are shown along side their painting, and besides, the image in a catalogue isn’t usually the best version of itself. Seeing an artwork in the flesh is always best - obviously.
Titles can have a powerful influence upon our understanding of a painting and can serve to enhance our experience of the work and the experience of ourselves and own understanding and insight. It is a different part of the brain that tackles words and language than the one that perceives images, and some can sense the somersault the brain has to do. It is more laborious but so too is attending the image without words and trying to make sense of it yourself. In this respect it can be seen that a painting is a conversation with a part of yourself you have just met.
Interestingly, the matter of titling artwork is an aspect of an artist’s work that rarely gets talked about. It is a task that seems to happen secretly, under cover of night, while no one is looking. Few discuss the experience. As a curator I am left a little deflated when an artist has simply put “untitled”, or a number, and this is ironic because as an artist I have done this many times. I also have to confess I change titles too! They morph as if they are on-going poems. I don’t know what the title police would say about that! I explain it away to myself by admitting I am a poet too.
I challenge you to grab an artist at the street cafe and ask them how they go about titling their work. Be prepared for them looking a bit shifty. I think it is because by putting words to a painting it feels a little as if you have pinned down a butterfly - or moth.
