Greetings one and all from the buckle of the bible belt. Apologies for the continued lack of postings. I have been extremely busy with moving and preparing for the new job. Once I have settled and start working, I'll be back to blogging. I promise!
Cheers all and Happy New Year!
Here is some intermission music. Enjoy!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Saturday, December 1, 2012
A New Job!!!
Hi all! I apologize for the lack of recent postings. I have been extremely busy lately with interviews and trips, and I have some very happy news. I finally landed the dream job. I am the new Registrar at the Parthenon in Nashville, TN. I am so happy and excited that all of my hard work has finally paid off and I look forward to starting this exciting new chapter in my life. Thank you to all of my readers and friends for sticking in there with me and sharing your comments.
Now here we are at the start of a new adventure. Nashville here I come!
Now here we are at the start of a new adventure. Nashville here I come!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Federico Barocci: Renaissance Master
In the summer of 2008, oh so many moons ago, I interned at the Saint Louis Art Museum as a curatorial research assistant. I spent three months reading and thinking of nothing but Federico Barroci, an Italian Renaissance artist who was born and died in Urbino, Italy (c. 1526 - 1612). While he is not a widely known artist in modern times, Barocci was one of the most influential artists of the 16th and 17th centuries. His mastery of color and the vast collection of preparatory drawings he left behind, show him to be one of the most creative and methodical artists of his time. Due to this, Dr. Judith Mann of the Saint Louis Art Museum decided it was high time that this relatively unknown master get a little bit of the spotlight. After many years of planning and preparation on behalf of museum staff, external curators, and dozens of interns, the show is finally here. Read more about it at the online at Federico Barocci: Renaissance Master.
After four years of waiting, I was happy to see Judy's show finally come to fruition. I made my way up to the museum Thursday to see the exhibit with great anticipation and I was not disappointed. I began by taking up my audio tour and entered into the introductory gallery. Here I was met by a self-portrait of the man himself. His soft brown eyes glowed out at me, inviting and warm, and if I hadn't of liked him already his portrait would have definitely won me over. The way he captured his own gaze in oils and pigments shows, in many ways, how he saw the world and thus why he portrayed it the way he did in his art. The audio guide introduces the viewer to Barocci and the show, as well as all the contributors and sponsors of the exhibit. Then I was introduced to the first of many Barocci preparatory drawings, over a hundred, which make up the vast majority of the show.
The large number of drawings and cartoons in the show are, in my opinion, what make it so great. While it is always awe inspiring to see a completed work on a grand scale, I personally have always been more interested in the creative process of such grand pieces. I like to see how the characters of each painting were developed and shaped. This is why Barocci is the best subject for such a show, since he has left behind probably more preparatory drawings than any other Renaissance master. Here you can see Barocci's processes, which figures he struggled with and how saints came to their final poses. It's almost like following a timeline of drawings until you come to the culmination; the finished painting, fantastical and towering over you.
Many of Barocci's works are devotional alter pieces and, while looking up at these beautiful compositions, somewhere inside me a younger Maggie in her Catholic school uniform was wondering if she should genuflect. The works and their drawings are astoundingly beautiful. Barocci had this great way of portraying figures' faces, where they seem to glow with an aura all their own. One particularly great set of drawings near La Madonna del Gatto (The Madonna of the Cat), show how the artist developed such a radiant face for the Virgin Mary; first starting with a sketch of an actual model and next to that another sketch where the woman's head has been softened and idealized. His glowing characters are often shown in very innovative poses, which is one of the reasons Barocci was such a groundbreaking artist. Despite this, there is also evidence of his taking ideas from previous masters, such as Raphael (Raffaello Sanzio), also from Urbino. This can be seen when comparing Barocci's Entombment with Raphael's The Deposition (not included in show). And these are just a couple of examples of some of Barocci's works on display in this exhibition.
The thoughtfully planned layout of the exhibit allows visitors to stroll through and take in all the drawings and their paintings, one at a time. The audio guide provides information on each painting and covers anywhere from three to five drawings per piece. The exhibit also has ample text in the form large panels and individual labels. In some areas, magnifying glasses are provided that enable visitors to get a closer look at prints and drawings. There is also an information video in one of the galleries, where curators and museum directors explain more about Barocci, his life, his techniques, and his art. I can grantee that by the time the visitor exits this exhibit they will know so much more about the artist and his process. So much so, they'll be wondering how they had never even heard of Barocci in the first place.
Federico Barocci: Renaissance Master is an excellent exhibition that allows visitors to not only look at exceptional devotional artworks but also allows them to see how those artworks were developed. It displays Barocci's skills as a painter, printer, and draftsman. I highly recommend this exhibit to anyone who is passionate about art and the artistic process.
After four years of waiting, I was happy to see Judy's show finally come to fruition. I made my way up to the museum Thursday to see the exhibit with great anticipation and I was not disappointed. I began by taking up my audio tour and entered into the introductory gallery. Here I was met by a self-portrait of the man himself. His soft brown eyes glowed out at me, inviting and warm, and if I hadn't of liked him already his portrait would have definitely won me over. The way he captured his own gaze in oils and pigments shows, in many ways, how he saw the world and thus why he portrayed it the way he did in his art. The audio guide introduces the viewer to Barocci and the show, as well as all the contributors and sponsors of the exhibit. Then I was introduced to the first of many Barocci preparatory drawings, over a hundred, which make up the vast majority of the show.
The large number of drawings and cartoons in the show are, in my opinion, what make it so great. While it is always awe inspiring to see a completed work on a grand scale, I personally have always been more interested in the creative process of such grand pieces. I like to see how the characters of each painting were developed and shaped. This is why Barocci is the best subject for such a show, since he has left behind probably more preparatory drawings than any other Renaissance master. Here you can see Barocci's processes, which figures he struggled with and how saints came to their final poses. It's almost like following a timeline of drawings until you come to the culmination; the finished painting, fantastical and towering over you.
Many of Barocci's works are devotional alter pieces and, while looking up at these beautiful compositions, somewhere inside me a younger Maggie in her Catholic school uniform was wondering if she should genuflect. The works and their drawings are astoundingly beautiful. Barocci had this great way of portraying figures' faces, where they seem to glow with an aura all their own. One particularly great set of drawings near La Madonna del Gatto (The Madonna of the Cat), show how the artist developed such a radiant face for the Virgin Mary; first starting with a sketch of an actual model and next to that another sketch where the woman's head has been softened and idealized. His glowing characters are often shown in very innovative poses, which is one of the reasons Barocci was such a groundbreaking artist. Despite this, there is also evidence of his taking ideas from previous masters, such as Raphael (Raffaello Sanzio), also from Urbino. This can be seen when comparing Barocci's Entombment with Raphael's The Deposition (not included in show). And these are just a couple of examples of some of Barocci's works on display in this exhibition.
The thoughtfully planned layout of the exhibit allows visitors to stroll through and take in all the drawings and their paintings, one at a time. The audio guide provides information on each painting and covers anywhere from three to five drawings per piece. The exhibit also has ample text in the form large panels and individual labels. In some areas, magnifying glasses are provided that enable visitors to get a closer look at prints and drawings. There is also an information video in one of the galleries, where curators and museum directors explain more about Barocci, his life, his techniques, and his art. I can grantee that by the time the visitor exits this exhibit they will know so much more about the artist and his process. So much so, they'll be wondering how they had never even heard of Barocci in the first place.
Federico Barocci: Renaissance Master is an excellent exhibition that allows visitors to not only look at exceptional devotional artworks but also allows them to see how those artworks were developed. It displays Barocci's skills as a painter, printer, and draftsman. I highly recommend this exhibit to anyone who is passionate about art and the artistic process.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Remember to Vote Tuesday!
Hi all and apologies for the lack of recent posts. I have spent a lot of time recently working and researching political candidates. Allow me to take a moment to encourage everyone to vote and to be an informed voter. Every election is important and folks should take the time to carefully research and consider each candidate.
I also wanted to share what has been my mantra/power song this election season. This one's for the ladies! Huzzah for 92 years of women voting! Sister Suffragette
I also wanted to share what has been my mantra/power song this election season. This one's for the ladies! Huzzah for 92 years of women voting! Sister Suffragette
Monday, October 22, 2012
Dutch Museum Art Theft
Today I read an article concerning the recent art theft of seven paintings from Rotterdam's Kruntshal Museum that very much reminded me of a blog post I wrote back in May entitled Museum Heists in Movies. You can read the article at cbsnews.com. They even make a Pierce Brosnan reference. Two more articles, one in the Detroit Free Press entitled Dutch Art Thieves were no 'Ocean's 11' Team, and the other in the Washington Post entitled Why do people steal art?, also carry a similar message.
The main point being that museum thefts are not high-tech or cool and art thieves are not classy and sophisticated, they are thugs who steal and break things.
The main point being that museum thefts are not high-tech or cool and art thieves are not classy and sophisticated, they are thugs who steal and break things.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Some Helpful Cells and Formulas
Whenever asked about my computer skills and experience with Microsoft Office software, I am always quick to declare myself an Excel Wizard. Wingardium Leviosa! Alohomora! Expecto Patronum! Well, not that kind of wizard, just a person who is very good with spreadsheets. And I'm pretty sure they don't teach a computer course at Hogwarts.
My expertise with Excel developed when I worked as an accounting assistant/job cost accountant during the year in between undergrad and grad school. I utilized the program to track budgets, create invoices, assemble bills, and make lists. I took everything I learned of formulas and worksheets at my job and began utilizing them at home to track my personal budget and all my savings for grad school. Once I began school, my skills were once again called upon when I was elected to serve as Treasurer for the student exhibition team. I would like to boast about some of my cap feathers at this point and say that not only did we complete our project on budget, but I also successfully obtained some extra grant funding for our group and handled all of that paperwork as well. During an internship, I used Excel to create a detailed inventory list of a collections storage room and included a column of cells that contained thumbnail images of the artifacts. Now I utilize Excel in the gift shop at Laumeier Sculpture Park, creating spreadsheets to input visitor survey data and then using those to produce pages with statistics and graphs. These statistics are super helpful when it's time to apply for grants. We also use it to enter membership information and to keep track of our iPod rentals.
Excel has been a very important tool of mine for the last couple of years and there is a very good reason for this: Excel is a super useful tool for museums. It is clear from the paragraph above that it can be utilized for a number of different things by any department. So I just wanted to share some of the things that I have picked up along the way:
1.) First, if you are trying to figure out what formula you need or how to enter it, Microsoft has a great webpage with helpful tips called Examples of Commonly used Formulas. Hitting the question mark on the Menu bar also opens a window with links to info on formulas and tables.
2.) Remember there are three ways to enter any given Excel formula - select from drop down options on the Menu, manually type, or just copy and paste/drag from another cell.
3.) If your numbers do not add up correctly and you know all the data was entered right, then the problem is one of the formulas. Sometimes this occurs because you copied or dragged a formula; the program will automatically start ascending numerals (counting upwards) from your original number. Because of this, I often find it is best to manually type in all the formulas the first time I create any spreadsheet, just to make sure they are correct.
4.) Excel is very expansive with all its columns, rows, and cells, but it still has its limitations, and sometimes you just have to get creative.
5.) Interlinked multiple spreadsheets, instead of having all your information on just one sheet, it much more organized and a huge time saver.
6.) While you can include high resolution images in a spreadsheet, it is best to keep them low resolution so the file size is smaller.
7.) Excel can be used as a collections database, but Microsoft Access is better for this.
8.) Most museum database programs are already designed to import and export data from spreadsheets.
9.) Pie charts are the best (and I'm not just saying that cause I like pie).
My expertise with Excel developed when I worked as an accounting assistant/job cost accountant during the year in between undergrad and grad school. I utilized the program to track budgets, create invoices, assemble bills, and make lists. I took everything I learned of formulas and worksheets at my job and began utilizing them at home to track my personal budget and all my savings for grad school. Once I began school, my skills were once again called upon when I was elected to serve as Treasurer for the student exhibition team. I would like to boast about some of my cap feathers at this point and say that not only did we complete our project on budget, but I also successfully obtained some extra grant funding for our group and handled all of that paperwork as well. During an internship, I used Excel to create a detailed inventory list of a collections storage room and included a column of cells that contained thumbnail images of the artifacts. Now I utilize Excel in the gift shop at Laumeier Sculpture Park, creating spreadsheets to input visitor survey data and then using those to produce pages with statistics and graphs. These statistics are super helpful when it's time to apply for grants. We also use it to enter membership information and to keep track of our iPod rentals.
Excel has been a very important tool of mine for the last couple of years and there is a very good reason for this: Excel is a super useful tool for museums. It is clear from the paragraph above that it can be utilized for a number of different things by any department. So I just wanted to share some of the things that I have picked up along the way:
1.) First, if you are trying to figure out what formula you need or how to enter it, Microsoft has a great webpage with helpful tips called Examples of Commonly used Formulas. Hitting the question mark on the Menu bar also opens a window with links to info on formulas and tables.
2.) Remember there are three ways to enter any given Excel formula - select from drop down options on the Menu, manually type, or just copy and paste/drag from another cell.
3.) If your numbers do not add up correctly and you know all the data was entered right, then the problem is one of the formulas. Sometimes this occurs because you copied or dragged a formula; the program will automatically start ascending numerals (counting upwards) from your original number. Because of this, I often find it is best to manually type in all the formulas the first time I create any spreadsheet, just to make sure they are correct.
4.) Excel is very expansive with all its columns, rows, and cells, but it still has its limitations, and sometimes you just have to get creative.
5.) Interlinked multiple spreadsheets, instead of having all your information on just one sheet, it much more organized and a huge time saver.
6.) While you can include high resolution images in a spreadsheet, it is best to keep them low resolution so the file size is smaller.
7.) Excel can be used as a collections database, but Microsoft Access is better for this.
8.) Most museum database programs are already designed to import and export data from spreadsheets.
9.) Pie charts are the best (and I'm not just saying that cause I like pie).
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Yellowism
A recent incident at the Tate Modern in London has me feeling a bit more wary of any patron that gets too close to artworks at the Kemper Art Museum or Laumeier Sculpture Park. On Sunday, October 7th, a man named Valdimir Umanets walked up to Rothko's Black on Maroon and wrote on it: "Vladimir Umanets, A Potential Piece of Yellowism." Mr. Umanets, in a BBC article, claims that his actions are not vandalism and will make the artwork more valuable.
Curious, I tried to find out what exactly Yellowism is. Googling the term instantly brings up a website and blog created by Valdimir Umanets and Marcin Lodyga, which explains their artistic philosophies. The Manifesto of Yellowism, written in a bold black font against a sharp white background, explains (well sort of) what Yellowism is. I think the basic point the proponents of this philosophy are trying to get across is: what makes art, art is the context in which art exists. It's kinda like saying the only reason a Piasco painting is art is because someone hangs it up in an art museum. Statements such as "We believe that the context for works of art is already art," and "Yellowism can be presented in only yellowistic chambers," lean me towards this argument. There are, however, other statements, such as "Yellowism is not art or anti-art," and "Interpreting Yellowism as art or being about something other than just yellow deprives Yellowism of its only purpose," that refute this. So the questions remain: what makes Yellowism yellow? What makes art art? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? The world may never know.
I love art and art historical debate just as much as the next emerging museum professional. I think the concepts of Yellowism are interesting (though infuriating and possibly complete hokum) and people should be allowed to put forth these theories and discuss them in an open forum. Still, I do not approve of the defacement of another's artwork in order to bring these philosophies to light. Valdimir Umanets's actions seem to show a lack of respect for other artists and art movements. His actions, though, he feels are justified by the philosophies of his own movement, which make it acceptable and even an honor to bestow his markings on Rothko's painting. If Rothko were alive I wonder what he would say about it. What if Umanets had chosen a living artist's work to write on? Choosing an artist who can no longer speak for himself seems to be a way of avoiding artistic conflict and responsibility, and also seems very high-handed; that he has done this deceased artist a favor, who cannot say whether or not he wants such a condescending favor in the first place.
This is not a first instance of a contemporary artist claiming their destructive actions are in themselves art. In 2007 a female artist in France vandalized a Cy Twombly by kissing it and leaving her lipstick smudged on the white canvas. She later claimed that she felt the artist had "left the canvas white" for her and that "this red stain is a testimony to this moment, to the power of art." As far as I can tell, Twombly never shared his personal opinions concerning this act, but the French courts did find the woman guilty of vandalism and fined her.
While researching other examples of art vandalism I came across an article, entitled Please Refrain from Taking a Hammer to the Michelangelo, in the Arts & Entertainment section of the Wall Street Journal. It briefly discusses the Cy Twombly and current Tate Modern incidents and others like them. It also expresses my opinion about artists who vandalize art; that it is first and foremost a security issue that can ruin the visitor experiences of others. Actions like this lead to tightened security measures that can limit and even eliminate a visitor's ability to fully engage with and enjoy an artwork. Just think of every person you have ever heard complain (and I am certain you have) about all the barriers and bullet-proof glass around the Mona Lisa. No one seems to notice her anymore, just her security detail. I think no artist or philosophy about art should interfere with how others are allowed to view and interact with art.
I will not say that proponents of Yellowism do not have the right to share their ideas, in fact I think such ideas lead to fascinating scholarly debate. But no idea or philosophy should be allowed to force itself onto or brand the artistic concepts or creations of others. And all philosophical debates aside, it is also important to remember the simple fact that the damage of someone else's property is wrong and legally punishable. Black on Maroon does not belong to Umanets, it belongs to the Tate Modern, and he had no right to make his mark on it and the museum has every right to prosecute.
At the end of the day I think all that Yellowism has really accomplished is ruining the museum experiences of others and making my job a little bit more stressful.
Curious, I tried to find out what exactly Yellowism is. Googling the term instantly brings up a website and blog created by Valdimir Umanets and Marcin Lodyga, which explains their artistic philosophies. The Manifesto of Yellowism, written in a bold black font against a sharp white background, explains (well sort of) what Yellowism is. I think the basic point the proponents of this philosophy are trying to get across is: what makes art, art is the context in which art exists. It's kinda like saying the only reason a Piasco painting is art is because someone hangs it up in an art museum. Statements such as "We believe that the context for works of art is already art," and "Yellowism can be presented in only yellowistic chambers," lean me towards this argument. There are, however, other statements, such as "Yellowism is not art or anti-art," and "Interpreting Yellowism as art or being about something other than just yellow deprives Yellowism of its only purpose," that refute this. So the questions remain: what makes Yellowism yellow? What makes art art? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? The world may never know.
I love art and art historical debate just as much as the next emerging museum professional. I think the concepts of Yellowism are interesting (though infuriating and possibly complete hokum) and people should be allowed to put forth these theories and discuss them in an open forum. Still, I do not approve of the defacement of another's artwork in order to bring these philosophies to light. Valdimir Umanets's actions seem to show a lack of respect for other artists and art movements. His actions, though, he feels are justified by the philosophies of his own movement, which make it acceptable and even an honor to bestow his markings on Rothko's painting. If Rothko were alive I wonder what he would say about it. What if Umanets had chosen a living artist's work to write on? Choosing an artist who can no longer speak for himself seems to be a way of avoiding artistic conflict and responsibility, and also seems very high-handed; that he has done this deceased artist a favor, who cannot say whether or not he wants such a condescending favor in the first place.
This is not a first instance of a contemporary artist claiming their destructive actions are in themselves art. In 2007 a female artist in France vandalized a Cy Twombly by kissing it and leaving her lipstick smudged on the white canvas. She later claimed that she felt the artist had "left the canvas white" for her and that "this red stain is a testimony to this moment, to the power of art." As far as I can tell, Twombly never shared his personal opinions concerning this act, but the French courts did find the woman guilty of vandalism and fined her.
While researching other examples of art vandalism I came across an article, entitled Please Refrain from Taking a Hammer to the Michelangelo, in the Arts & Entertainment section of the Wall Street Journal. It briefly discusses the Cy Twombly and current Tate Modern incidents and others like them. It also expresses my opinion about artists who vandalize art; that it is first and foremost a security issue that can ruin the visitor experiences of others. Actions like this lead to tightened security measures that can limit and even eliminate a visitor's ability to fully engage with and enjoy an artwork. Just think of every person you have ever heard complain (and I am certain you have) about all the barriers and bullet-proof glass around the Mona Lisa. No one seems to notice her anymore, just her security detail. I think no artist or philosophy about art should interfere with how others are allowed to view and interact with art.
I will not say that proponents of Yellowism do not have the right to share their ideas, in fact I think such ideas lead to fascinating scholarly debate. But no idea or philosophy should be allowed to force itself onto or brand the artistic concepts or creations of others. And all philosophical debates aside, it is also important to remember the simple fact that the damage of someone else's property is wrong and legally punishable. Black on Maroon does not belong to Umanets, it belongs to the Tate Modern, and he had no right to make his mark on it and the museum has every right to prosecute.
At the end of the day I think all that Yellowism has really accomplished is ruining the museum experiences of others and making my job a little bit more stressful.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Van Gogh or Faux Van Gogh?
In my reading this week, I came across a great article entitled Opportunities and Challenges with Reproductions on the AAM Center for the Future of Museums blog. It's about a Vincent Van Gogh exhibition in Amsterdam featuring only reproductions of Van Gogh paintings. The author looks at the deeper questions of using reproductions and what that means for the originals. I really enjoyed reading it, so take a look!
Friday, September 14, 2012
Ode to Stuffing Envelopes
For the vast majority of last week my work at Laumeier Sculpture Park consisted of stuffing envelopes with invites for the fall fundraiser Carts and Cocktails. This work entailed sticking labels on envelopes, stuffing the invites, RSVP cards, and return envelopes into the labeled envelopes, putting stamps on the envelopes, and sealing all the envelopes shut. Now this may not seem too tasking, but it can be when done approximately 500 times in a row. It felt like my life had been engulfed by the wide, hungry mouths of so many of the envelopes that I sealed shut. There is only way to deal with this kind of letterhead-induced angst: write a poem. So here it goes...
On buzzing golf carts a fundraiser is fast approaching,
Where the tongue shall bee met with rich foods and many libations.
A hive of honeycombs alive with chatter and laughing,
And colonies of art lovers gather nectar at blossoming stations.
Yet before the pleasure of honeyed joy can bee savored,
The invitations must bee released in a liberally flying swarm.
The task is given to eager visitor services drones,
A somewhat daunting function is now theirs to perform.
With flourishing arms and dancing digits duties are assigned,
The little honey bees hastening to label, stuff, stamp, and seal.
A humdrum task that yearns for flowers to bee desired,
With the added sting of paper cuts creating a risky ordeal.
First the labels must bee affixed in deft alphabetical order,
Then invite, reply card and envelope placed by busy humming.
Next the postage stamps fastened in the upper right most part,
Last to clinch shut with tacky wax as open mouths keep coming.
When the flapping wings are exhausted and tactile feelers worn,
And the monotonous filling of combs leave the drones too tried to think.
It is then time to mail off the lovely invites and hurry up the party,
Long hours and repetition leave this honey bee in need of a drink.
On buzzing golf carts a fundraiser is fast approaching,
Where the tongue shall bee met with rich foods and many libations.
A hive of honeycombs alive with chatter and laughing,
And colonies of art lovers gather nectar at blossoming stations.
Yet before the pleasure of honeyed joy can bee savored,
The invitations must bee released in a liberally flying swarm.
The task is given to eager visitor services drones,
A somewhat daunting function is now theirs to perform.
With flourishing arms and dancing digits duties are assigned,
The little honey bees hastening to label, stuff, stamp, and seal.
A humdrum task that yearns for flowers to bee desired,
With the added sting of paper cuts creating a risky ordeal.
First the labels must bee affixed in deft alphabetical order,
Then invite, reply card and envelope placed by busy humming.
Next the postage stamps fastened in the upper right most part,
Last to clinch shut with tacky wax as open mouths keep coming.
When the flapping wings are exhausted and tactile feelers worn,
And the monotonous filling of combs leave the drones too tried to think.
It is then time to mail off the lovely invites and hurry up the party,
Long hours and repetition leave this honey bee in need of a drink.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Kinetic Sculpture
In relation to my most recent post concerning Raymond Duchamp-Villon's sculpture, Le cheval, I was looking up different kinetic sculptures online and found this amazing piece from Munich, Germany. In 2008 the BMW Museum displayed an artwork entitled Kinetic Sculpture (which is why it came up in my Google search). I just had to share these images and video, because this is quite possibly one of the coolest moving sculptures I have ever seen. Anyone want to go to Munich?
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Le cheval
Positioned atop a pedestal in the window corner of the Kemper Art Museum's north entrance, Raymond Duchamp-Villon's Le cheval (The Horse) hangs in (un)suspended motion. Its front legs sculpted in a forward thrusting crank, a powerful gesticulation that results from the orbit of its sun and planet gears. Connected by two reciprocating arms, a large cage gear in the torso of the animal powers the legs and rears the body forward. Its base is as solid and durable as an anvil and provides a support which keeps the machine level and prevents the mammal from running off its track. The head is fixed in a forward-facing position ready to plough through its assigned labors.
Duchamp-Villon grew up in an era where the horse was making way for the horse-less carriage and the steam engine was slowly towing farm equipment across the field with a belly full of hot coals rather than a belly full of oats. The Industrial Revolution was full steam ahead and the large quadrupeds that labored to help produce our goods and haul them to market were becoming more and more obsolete. They were being replaced by the iron beasts that for centuries had only lived in man's imagination and were finally able to break forth in the ironworks and factories of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Taking a good long look at the changing world around him, Duchamp-Villon tried to merge the idea of labor-animal and labor-machine while the two still coexisted. He is quoted in a letter as saying, "The power of the machine imposes itself upon us and we can scarcely conceive living bodies without it."
Le cheval is one of my favorite pieces in the whole museum and after doing a little research I learned more about its history. The mold and original plaster cast were created by the Duchamp-Villon in 1914, either shortly before or while he was serving as a medical officer in World War I. Unfortunately, in October 1918 he contracted blood poisoning and died in a military hospital. Le cheval many never have come to fruition if it weren't for Raymond's three artistic siblings, who were determined that his creative ideas would live on. Jacques Villon, Marcel Duchamp, and Suzanne Duchamp-Crotti took the abandoned plaster, enlarged it, and cast several bronzes in 1930-31. There are two versions of this piece, the enlarged sculpture, which is 39 3/8 x 24 x 36in., and the original plaster size, which is 16 1/2 x 13 5/8 x 12 1/2 in. At the Kemper we have the original plaster-sized sculpture.
When I first learned the history of the piece I was very touched by the familial bond that helped preserve and produce the sculpture. I love the concept of horse as machine and Duchamp-Villon's endeavor to converge animal and engine. It moves, it actually moves. I don't know if the images provided here are enough to convey that, but I feel like it is progressing forward all the time, through time, and timeless. That's what I mean with my little made-up word in the first paragraph: (un)suspended motion. Technically the piece is motionless, but it rests in such perfect harmony with the still universe that it is actually in an eternal state of rotating gears and galloping legs.
My goodness, have I gone overboard with the romantic idioms or what? What can I say? I really do love this piece. And it goes much deeper than a little girl's love of ponies. Well okay, it is a little girl's love of ponies combined with an adult understanding of artistic expression.
It is my fondness for Le cheval which caused me to feel a bit bothered by how others at the Kemper have been presenting it. On at least three occasions, I have overheard staff portray the piece in the context of "This is Marcel Duchamp's brother, who is very important for his original idea of Readymades in art." No offense to Marcel, but why don't they just leave him to his chess and focus on his brother; talk more about Raymond's contributions to art before his early demise instead? The sculpture stands very well on its own and does not need his brother's urinal to emphasize its artistic importance.
The artwork is often categorized as part of the cubist movement, and it does have many qualities that fit that classification. But after some reflection, I feel the piece is far more innovative than most realize. I would dare to state that Le cheval is quite possibly an early forerunner and experimental form of kinetic sculpture. Though the piece is literally solid and motionless, Duchamp-Villon seems to have been playing at motion with his depiction of the horse's many moving parts. In the early 20th century the idea of sculptures that move was a new one that was idealistically placed close to home for Raymond. Just a year earlier, in 1913, his more-famous brother, Marcel, had created what is credited as the first kinetic sculpture, Bicycle Wheel, which was part of his series of Readymades. Had Marcel and Raymond discussed moving art? Was Raymond trying to prove to his brother that art doesn't have to literally move to depict active motion? Had he lived, would Raymond have evolved the concept using actual gears? The answers are unknown, but I think it's something to consider. It appears that someone at the Kemper also sees a kinetic connection, unless it is by pure chance that Le cheval is placed in between the two wind-powered sculptures, Bayonets Menacing a Flower and Five Rudders, of Alexander Calder.
Le cheval is comprised of the multitude of angles that typify cubism, the engine parts of the industrial giants, the equine beasts that bore agricultural burden, family love, and the contradiction of an object simultaneously projecting potential and kinetic energy... and it's a pony. Yes, it is definitely one of my favorite pieces in the whole museum.
What do you think of the idea of a motionless kinetic sculpture? Can I make (un)suspended motion a word?
Duchamp-Villon grew up in an era where the horse was making way for the horse-less carriage and the steam engine was slowly towing farm equipment across the field with a belly full of hot coals rather than a belly full of oats. The Industrial Revolution was full steam ahead and the large quadrupeds that labored to help produce our goods and haul them to market were becoming more and more obsolete. They were being replaced by the iron beasts that for centuries had only lived in man's imagination and were finally able to break forth in the ironworks and factories of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Taking a good long look at the changing world around him, Duchamp-Villon tried to merge the idea of labor-animal and labor-machine while the two still coexisted. He is quoted in a letter as saying, "The power of the machine imposes itself upon us and we can scarcely conceive living bodies without it."
Le cheval is one of my favorite pieces in the whole museum and after doing a little research I learned more about its history. The mold and original plaster cast were created by the Duchamp-Villon in 1914, either shortly before or while he was serving as a medical officer in World War I. Unfortunately, in October 1918 he contracted blood poisoning and died in a military hospital. Le cheval many never have come to fruition if it weren't for Raymond's three artistic siblings, who were determined that his creative ideas would live on. Jacques Villon, Marcel Duchamp, and Suzanne Duchamp-Crotti took the abandoned plaster, enlarged it, and cast several bronzes in 1930-31. There are two versions of this piece, the enlarged sculpture, which is 39 3/8 x 24 x 36in., and the original plaster size, which is 16 1/2 x 13 5/8 x 12 1/2 in. At the Kemper we have the original plaster-sized sculpture.
When I first learned the history of the piece I was very touched by the familial bond that helped preserve and produce the sculpture. I love the concept of horse as machine and Duchamp-Villon's endeavor to converge animal and engine. It moves, it actually moves. I don't know if the images provided here are enough to convey that, but I feel like it is progressing forward all the time, through time, and timeless. That's what I mean with my little made-up word in the first paragraph: (un)suspended motion. Technically the piece is motionless, but it rests in such perfect harmony with the still universe that it is actually in an eternal state of rotating gears and galloping legs.
My goodness, have I gone overboard with the romantic idioms or what? What can I say? I really do love this piece. And it goes much deeper than a little girl's love of ponies. Well okay, it is a little girl's love of ponies combined with an adult understanding of artistic expression.
It is my fondness for Le cheval which caused me to feel a bit bothered by how others at the Kemper have been presenting it. On at least three occasions, I have overheard staff portray the piece in the context of "This is Marcel Duchamp's brother, who is very important for his original idea of Readymades in art." No offense to Marcel, but why don't they just leave him to his chess and focus on his brother; talk more about Raymond's contributions to art before his early demise instead? The sculpture stands very well on its own and does not need his brother's urinal to emphasize its artistic importance.
The artwork is often categorized as part of the cubist movement, and it does have many qualities that fit that classification. But after some reflection, I feel the piece is far more innovative than most realize. I would dare to state that Le cheval is quite possibly an early forerunner and experimental form of kinetic sculpture. Though the piece is literally solid and motionless, Duchamp-Villon seems to have been playing at motion with his depiction of the horse's many moving parts. In the early 20th century the idea of sculptures that move was a new one that was idealistically placed close to home for Raymond. Just a year earlier, in 1913, his more-famous brother, Marcel, had created what is credited as the first kinetic sculpture, Bicycle Wheel, which was part of his series of Readymades. Had Marcel and Raymond discussed moving art? Was Raymond trying to prove to his brother that art doesn't have to literally move to depict active motion? Had he lived, would Raymond have evolved the concept using actual gears? The answers are unknown, but I think it's something to consider. It appears that someone at the Kemper also sees a kinetic connection, unless it is by pure chance that Le cheval is placed in between the two wind-powered sculptures, Bayonets Menacing a Flower and Five Rudders, of Alexander Calder.
Le cheval is comprised of the multitude of angles that typify cubism, the engine parts of the industrial giants, the equine beasts that bore agricultural burden, family love, and the contradiction of an object simultaneously projecting potential and kinetic energy... and it's a pony. Yes, it is definitely one of my favorite pieces in the whole museum.
What do you think of the idea of a motionless kinetic sculpture? Can I make (un)suspended motion a word?
Saturday, August 25, 2012
No Postage
Ladies and gentleman, as a precaution please never mail your Rembrandt. Norwegian gallery loses a Rembrandt in the mail.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
White Dove
Early on Tuesday morning, as in very early, as in 6:45 in the morning kind of early, I was monitoring the work of a painting crew at the Kemper Art Museum. As a security guard, I was there to make sure the painters didn't wander into any spaces they shouldn't and see that they followed some standard safety rules. The morning passed with many yawns and without much indecent, aside from my asking one gentleman not to drink his soda in the atrium. So as I watched paint being applied, I had time to reflect on a subject foremost in my mind: the color white.
Throughout the 20th century, there has been a strong tradition of displaying modern or contemporary artworks on white walls. At the Kemper we use what is probably one of the most popular shades of white in the museum world, Benjamin Moore's White Dove. It also appears to be one of the most popular whites for home interiors, shown here as number one on a list of the top ten shades of white.
Just as it is fairly common for contemporary art to be displayed on white walls, it is also normal practice to display pre-20th century artworks on walls with colored paint. In some older institutions or house museums, the wall decor may even be more opulent with patterned wall papers or rich fabrics. The color of the wall often depends on the artworks themselves and what paint best compliments the colors in the paintings.
So as three men applied White Dove to the atrium walls with long rollers, I began to wonder why the turn-of-the-century switch from color to white took place. Who made that decision that 'white is right'? Where and when did this trend catch on? Well, to the best of my Googling, I believe that in the United States this trend took hold at the modern/contemporary art epicenter of the country, the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.
In a blog written by Eleonore Hugendubel back in 2010, she discusses MoMA's recent shift from white walls to a slightly larger variety of color in some of the temporary and permanent exhibit galleries. She then presents a brief history and suggests that the trend of white walls was brought over from Europe in the 1930s by none other than Alfred H. Barr, Jr., MoMA's founding director. He began by dressing the gallery walls with beige monk's cloth, because it was “the most neutral thing he could get.” Since it was very common in Barr's day to canvas gallery walls with cloth, his selection of a plain cloth was probably an attempt to coalesce his innovations with tradition. Eventually, though, he completely removed the cloth and just painted the walls white, beige apparently not being neutral enough. All this because Barr believed that plain walls were the best backdrop for avant-garde art, "their unadorned surfaces drawing attention to the objects rather than the surrounding architecture..."
With this explanation, it would appear that modern art is displayed on white walls because it was an innovation of one of America's earliest and leading modern art museums. This may also explain why the trend does not usually extend to pre-20th century art, since MoMA's primary concern at that time was collecting modern artworks and nurturing contemporary artists. Thus pre-20th century art continued to rest against rich, traditional hues in such old world art temples as the Metropolitan Museum of Art, while the new and avant-garde pushed forward and challenged the viewing audience's pre-conceived notions against a white and distraction-free background.
The trend took such a strong hold that now a Mid-Western university museum building, that opened in 2006, stands firm by the 'white is right' rule. Even so, it appears that not all hold to that code. Despite the longevity of Barr's innovation, it appears that more and more people are questioning whether or not white is the best backdrop for all 20th century art, or 21st century art for that matter. There also appear to be debates over what is the best shade of white. With 100+ shades of white paint, many argue that the wrong white could bring about a catastrophe while the proper shade will help an art show soar. You can read more about both of these issues in a 2010 ARTnews article by Nicole Lanctot here.
On the pro-white side of the debate, there are those that argue white is still the best because it allows patrons, "to be able to see the painting, appropriately lit and without distractions." In a post on his art blog from 2011, Jonathan Jones is willing to concede that colored walls, if not too overpowering, can enliven an art viewer's experience. Even so, Jones still feels that white is the best backdrop for art, even pre-20th century art.
I am personally on the fence of the white vs. color debate. I am still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that there are 100+ shades of white... I mean, that's a lot of white. Who knew there could be so many shades for one of the plainest colors in the spectrum? I think whether a museum should go with white or colored walls is situational and every institution should choose what is best for itself. At the end of the day, though, white may prevail in use not because of the importance of the man who began the trend or due to any rule guided by aesthetics. 'White is right,' I believe, has as much to do with budget, time constraints, and simplicity in execution as it has to do with anything else.
Do you think white is the best color to backdrop 20th century art? Do you think it should also backdrop pre-20th century art, or should the tradition of color be maintained? What shade of white do you use in your museum?
Throughout the 20th century, there has been a strong tradition of displaying modern or contemporary artworks on white walls. At the Kemper we use what is probably one of the most popular shades of white in the museum world, Benjamin Moore's White Dove. It also appears to be one of the most popular whites for home interiors, shown here as number one on a list of the top ten shades of white.
Just as it is fairly common for contemporary art to be displayed on white walls, it is also normal practice to display pre-20th century artworks on walls with colored paint. In some older institutions or house museums, the wall decor may even be more opulent with patterned wall papers or rich fabrics. The color of the wall often depends on the artworks themselves and what paint best compliments the colors in the paintings.
So as three men applied White Dove to the atrium walls with long rollers, I began to wonder why the turn-of-the-century switch from color to white took place. Who made that decision that 'white is right'? Where and when did this trend catch on? Well, to the best of my Googling, I believe that in the United States this trend took hold at the modern/contemporary art epicenter of the country, the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.
In a blog written by Eleonore Hugendubel back in 2010, she discusses MoMA's recent shift from white walls to a slightly larger variety of color in some of the temporary and permanent exhibit galleries. She then presents a brief history and suggests that the trend of white walls was brought over from Europe in the 1930s by none other than Alfred H. Barr, Jr., MoMA's founding director. He began by dressing the gallery walls with beige monk's cloth, because it was “the most neutral thing he could get.” Since it was very common in Barr's day to canvas gallery walls with cloth, his selection of a plain cloth was probably an attempt to coalesce his innovations with tradition. Eventually, though, he completely removed the cloth and just painted the walls white, beige apparently not being neutral enough. All this because Barr believed that plain walls were the best backdrop for avant-garde art, "their unadorned surfaces drawing attention to the objects rather than the surrounding architecture..."
With this explanation, it would appear that modern art is displayed on white walls because it was an innovation of one of America's earliest and leading modern art museums. This may also explain why the trend does not usually extend to pre-20th century art, since MoMA's primary concern at that time was collecting modern artworks and nurturing contemporary artists. Thus pre-20th century art continued to rest against rich, traditional hues in such old world art temples as the Metropolitan Museum of Art, while the new and avant-garde pushed forward and challenged the viewing audience's pre-conceived notions against a white and distraction-free background.
The trend took such a strong hold that now a Mid-Western university museum building, that opened in 2006, stands firm by the 'white is right' rule. Even so, it appears that not all hold to that code. Despite the longevity of Barr's innovation, it appears that more and more people are questioning whether or not white is the best backdrop for all 20th century art, or 21st century art for that matter. There also appear to be debates over what is the best shade of white. With 100+ shades of white paint, many argue that the wrong white could bring about a catastrophe while the proper shade will help an art show soar. You can read more about both of these issues in a 2010 ARTnews article by Nicole Lanctot here.
On the pro-white side of the debate, there are those that argue white is still the best because it allows patrons, "to be able to see the painting, appropriately lit and without distractions." In a post on his art blog from 2011, Jonathan Jones is willing to concede that colored walls, if not too overpowering, can enliven an art viewer's experience. Even so, Jones still feels that white is the best backdrop for art, even pre-20th century art.
I am personally on the fence of the white vs. color debate. I am still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that there are 100+ shades of white... I mean, that's a lot of white. Who knew there could be so many shades for one of the plainest colors in the spectrum? I think whether a museum should go with white or colored walls is situational and every institution should choose what is best for itself. At the end of the day, though, white may prevail in use not because of the importance of the man who began the trend or due to any rule guided by aesthetics. 'White is right,' I believe, has as much to do with budget, time constraints, and simplicity in execution as it has to do with anything else.
Do you think white is the best color to backdrop 20th century art? Do you think it should also backdrop pre-20th century art, or should the tradition of color be maintained? What shade of white do you use in your museum?
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Poland's Lost Raphael
In relation to my most recent post concerning the documentary The Rape of Europa, I was very excited to find an article today that claims that a long-lost Raphael portrait has been rediscovered in a European bank vault. The painting, Portrait of a Young Man, is featured in the film as one a Poland's most valuable Nazi-stolen artworks. It's the most astounding coincidence that just days before I finally sat down to watch the film this amazing artwork was finally found. You can read more about it here. Oh, how I love happy endings!
Friday, August 3, 2012
The Rape of Europa
Nearly a month ago, on July 6th, the Kemper Art Museum hosted one of their regular summer events, Friday Nights at the Kemper. This series occurs one evening each month and consists of a gallery talk, live music on the sculpture plaza, and then a film screening. On July 6th, the film presented was a 2006 documentary entitled The Rape of Europa. It chronicles the cultural destruction and looting of precious artworks committed by the Nazis before and during World War II. It includes interviews with art historians, soldiers, and eye-witnesses who recount events of cultural evacuation, destruction, personal sorrows, and restitution.
On that day I was scheduled to work from nine to four, and I remember feeling relieved that I would not have to work until midnight. Even though I would not stay, I was still very interested in seeing the film and intended to watch it during my own leisure time. Since I rarely actually get days off, the plan was put in the back of my mind and I kept moving forward with work, applications, babysitting, dog sitting, blogging, exercising, interviews, family dinners, social gatherings, and all the other little bits that comprise everyday life. The plan came springing back the the forefront of my memory yesterday when I noticed two books for sale in the Kemper gift shop; The Rape of Europa and The Monuments Men. Both books focus on the Nazi looting and the eventual repatriation of stolen art. I started reading a couple pages from each book and decided I wanted to buy them, but first, I thought, I should watch the film. So today, about a month later, I finally had some free time and decided to make some popcorn, grab a Diet Coke, and watch the movie alla streaming on Netflix.
The film begins with the story of Maria Altmann and her struggle to regain five Gustav Klimt paintings that were seized from members of her Jewish family by Nazis prior to World War II, and eventually ended up in the ownership of the Austrian government. Altmann argues that the paintings belong to the heirs of her family and Austrian officials argue that Altmann's aunt, Adele Bloch-Bauer and owner of many of the artworks in question, had always intended to donate the paintings to the National Museum, whether they had been illegally seized or not. I call this repatriation issue Case III, because it is Intriguing, Infuriating, and Interesting. You'll have to wait to the end of the movie to see if Altmann is successful or not.
The film then goes on to state that Altmann's case is just one of many that resonate into the 21st century as a result of the massive art thefts and crimes of the Nazi regime. The nearly two-hour film recounts many tales of stolen Jewish artworks and art seized from famous European museums and packed away to Germany on trains. All because Hitler and many in his regime fancied themselves cultured and wanted to make Germany the arts and cultural center of the world. It also tells the stories of those brave citizens and soldiers who attempted to save, hide, and record events so that artworks would not fall into German hands, or if they did, so they could eventually be recovered. The movie does a great job of showing the industrial scope of the damage the Nazis did to the visual arts world and how many artworks to this day are either still missing or disputed.
Two hours, one crushed aluminum can, and an empty bowl of popcorn later, I was stunned by the statistics of stolen art and celebrated the small triumphs of artworks finding their way home. I highly recommend this film because it does a great job of organizing and explaining a massively complicated series of events. It shows that the Nazis didn't just commit war crimes but also cultural crimes, all in their attempt to purge the world of races and cultures they deemed degenerate.
Since I enjoyed the film so much I definitely plan on purchasing both books, which present a much more detailed account of the Nazi art theft stories and those who fought back against it. I am also seriously considering attending (if I am not already working) the next Friday Nights and the Kemper event, which will focus on Jackson Pollock. Events like these are great because they allow the opportunity to learn about art in a very laid-back and recreational way. And I find that when it doesn't feel like learning, sometimes that's when you absorb the most.
Have you ever seen this film or read the two books mentioned above? Have you or your museum ever encountered issues with Nazi stolen artworks? Have you ever hosted an event to educate about Nazi art theft and current repatriation issues?
You can read more about regulations for museums concerning Nazi stolen artwork here on the American Association of Museums website.
On that day I was scheduled to work from nine to four, and I remember feeling relieved that I would not have to work until midnight. Even though I would not stay, I was still very interested in seeing the film and intended to watch it during my own leisure time. Since I rarely actually get days off, the plan was put in the back of my mind and I kept moving forward with work, applications, babysitting, dog sitting, blogging, exercising, interviews, family dinners, social gatherings, and all the other little bits that comprise everyday life. The plan came springing back the the forefront of my memory yesterday when I noticed two books for sale in the Kemper gift shop; The Rape of Europa and The Monuments Men. Both books focus on the Nazi looting and the eventual repatriation of stolen art. I started reading a couple pages from each book and decided I wanted to buy them, but first, I thought, I should watch the film. So today, about a month later, I finally had some free time and decided to make some popcorn, grab a Diet Coke, and watch the movie alla streaming on Netflix.
The film begins with the story of Maria Altmann and her struggle to regain five Gustav Klimt paintings that were seized from members of her Jewish family by Nazis prior to World War II, and eventually ended up in the ownership of the Austrian government. Altmann argues that the paintings belong to the heirs of her family and Austrian officials argue that Altmann's aunt, Adele Bloch-Bauer and owner of many of the artworks in question, had always intended to donate the paintings to the National Museum, whether they had been illegally seized or not. I call this repatriation issue Case III, because it is Intriguing, Infuriating, and Interesting. You'll have to wait to the end of the movie to see if Altmann is successful or not.
The film then goes on to state that Altmann's case is just one of many that resonate into the 21st century as a result of the massive art thefts and crimes of the Nazi regime. The nearly two-hour film recounts many tales of stolen Jewish artworks and art seized from famous European museums and packed away to Germany on trains. All because Hitler and many in his regime fancied themselves cultured and wanted to make Germany the arts and cultural center of the world. It also tells the stories of those brave citizens and soldiers who attempted to save, hide, and record events so that artworks would not fall into German hands, or if they did, so they could eventually be recovered. The movie does a great job of showing the industrial scope of the damage the Nazis did to the visual arts world and how many artworks to this day are either still missing or disputed.
Two hours, one crushed aluminum can, and an empty bowl of popcorn later, I was stunned by the statistics of stolen art and celebrated the small triumphs of artworks finding their way home. I highly recommend this film because it does a great job of organizing and explaining a massively complicated series of events. It shows that the Nazis didn't just commit war crimes but also cultural crimes, all in their attempt to purge the world of races and cultures they deemed degenerate.
Since I enjoyed the film so much I definitely plan on purchasing both books, which present a much more detailed account of the Nazi art theft stories and those who fought back against it. I am also seriously considering attending (if I am not already working) the next Friday Nights and the Kemper event, which will focus on Jackson Pollock. Events like these are great because they allow the opportunity to learn about art in a very laid-back and recreational way. And I find that when it doesn't feel like learning, sometimes that's when you absorb the most.
Have you ever seen this film or read the two books mentioned above? Have you or your museum ever encountered issues with Nazi stolen artworks? Have you ever hosted an event to educate about Nazi art theft and current repatriation issues?
You can read more about regulations for museums concerning Nazi stolen artwork here on the American Association of Museums website.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
All the Pretty Dresses I'll Never Wear
This past week the Chicago History Museum launched their Costume and Textile Digital Collection online. I have been having a wonderful time browsing through their lovely historic clothing and all the pretty dresses I'll never get to wear. High resolution photographs allow you to zoom in very close to examine the outfits and multiple photos allow you to get a 360° look at the pieces. Below the images are descriptions of the costumes and some include the family legends that have accompanied them through time. Some people procrastinate on Facebook, I procrastinate by looking at digital collections. To each her own.
This comes around the same time that news breaks about some very contemporary-looking bras discovered in the rubbish heap of a Austrian castle. Radio carbon dating places their age sometime around the end of the 14th to the second half of the 15th century. You can read more about these amazing finds in this article entitled "Medieval Lingerie" from the August 2012 issue of BBC History Magazine.
And if the article doesn't satisfy your need to learn more about historic underwear, then I would encourage you all to visit the Missouri History Museum to see the current exhibition Underneath It All, which looks at undergarments from the late 19th century to the 21st century, and some more pretty dresses. I did a lot of work for this show in my capacity as Exhibitions Registrar Intern, and I am very proud of it. If the opportunity arises, definitely go see.
What can I say? I've got cloths on the brain this week. Now please excuse me for leaving this post short, but I have the sudden urge to go shopping.
This comes around the same time that news breaks about some very contemporary-looking bras discovered in the rubbish heap of a Austrian castle. Radio carbon dating places their age sometime around the end of the 14th to the second half of the 15th century. You can read more about these amazing finds in this article entitled "Medieval Lingerie" from the August 2012 issue of BBC History Magazine.
And if the article doesn't satisfy your need to learn more about historic underwear, then I would encourage you all to visit the Missouri History Museum to see the current exhibition Underneath It All, which looks at undergarments from the late 19th century to the 21st century, and some more pretty dresses. I did a lot of work for this show in my capacity as Exhibitions Registrar Intern, and I am very proud of it. If the opportunity arises, definitely go see.
What can I say? I've got cloths on the brain this week. Now please excuse me for leaving this post short, but I have the sudden urge to go shopping.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Chinese Latern Festival
Friday evening I accompanied my parents on a visit to the Missouri Botanical Garden to see the summer exhibition, Lantern Festival 2012: Art By Day, Magic By Night. Throughout the garden are hand-crafted lanterns on a colossal and overwhelmingly beautiful scale after the Chinese tradition. These are not the lanterns I made in the second grade with a single sheet of construction paper, a pair of scissors, and two pieces of Scotch tape. Nor are they the, "portable lighting device[s] or mounted light fixture[s] used to illuminate broad areas," as defined by Wikipedia. They certainly aren't portable. The lanterns are as the title of the exhibition implies, magical works of art.
The lanterns are sculptural structures that depict many scenes including popular Chinese fables, famous emperors, important religious figures, and of course dragons. What would a Chinese festival of any kind be without those rolling serpentine bodies that we've all come to automatically associate with the world's most populous country?
During the day they bask in the sunlight, emanating confidence in their own complexity and splendor. After the sun has completed its long arc across the sky and has begun to tuck herself into the horizon, that's when the lanterns really begin to emanate. The light from energy efficient bulbs (see other ways the festival is Green here) shine through the colorful silk skins of the lanterns and make the figures glow brightly against the inky blacks and navy blues of the night sky. Some of the lanterns even have animatronic elements and move as traditional Chinese music sounds out from nearby loudspeakers.
Some of the best pieces aren't even lanterns. In the center of the garden, stretching across the length of two large reflecting pools are the giant porcelain dragons. Looking to find a new way to represent this popular Zodiac figure, the Missouri Botanical Garden created these two massive sculptures using a unique median; fine China. Tens of thousands of pieces of porcelain plates and cups and spoons were utilized to create these two large, fire-breathing creatures. Wait... did she say fire-breathing? Oh yes, she did. Not only are these figures animatronic, they also spew out smoke as their eyes smolder through the haze. Okay so not actual fire, but the effect is still very cool. A loud soundtrack builds up in intensity as the show begins with the two figures completely dormant. Then at the height of the score, their eyes start glowing, their heads start moving back and forth, and finally smoke rolls from their mouths, creating an amazing show. You can see one of these magnificent sculptures in the background of my blog page, as well as a bright pink lotus lantern.
Other pieces are made from recycled water bottles and glass jars, adding to the conservation message that is promoted throughout the garden. In addition to their promotion of Green practices, the exhibits also present a lot of facts about Chinese history and customs. Special-made lanterns serve as text panels and present this information as an art form and as an educational tool. The whole event harkens back to the thousand-year-old tradition of lantern festivals in China and transports the viewers back through time. This way patrons of the event are dazzled by the amazing artworks as they learn more about another culture. More traditional panels show the process by which the lanterns were made and have interactive samples the visitors can touch.
The Missouri Botanical Garden often hosts amazing summer art shows, but this one really takes the cake. Never have I been so captivated and impressed by lanterns and never have I learned so much in the warmth of their glow. It is always a great thing when a museum institution hosts a cultural event. It is very important to be exposed to other cultures in this fast-paced and ever expanding world. It is also important to look back at old traditions and the lessons that they teach us. They have most successfully done this with the lantern festival at the garden this summer and I encourage everyone to go see before the show ends on August 19th.
The lanterns are sculptural structures that depict many scenes including popular Chinese fables, famous emperors, important religious figures, and of course dragons. What would a Chinese festival of any kind be without those rolling serpentine bodies that we've all come to automatically associate with the world's most populous country?
During the day they bask in the sunlight, emanating confidence in their own complexity and splendor. After the sun has completed its long arc across the sky and has begun to tuck herself into the horizon, that's when the lanterns really begin to emanate. The light from energy efficient bulbs (see other ways the festival is Green here) shine through the colorful silk skins of the lanterns and make the figures glow brightly against the inky blacks and navy blues of the night sky. Some of the lanterns even have animatronic elements and move as traditional Chinese music sounds out from nearby loudspeakers.
Some of the best pieces aren't even lanterns. In the center of the garden, stretching across the length of two large reflecting pools are the giant porcelain dragons. Looking to find a new way to represent this popular Zodiac figure, the Missouri Botanical Garden created these two massive sculptures using a unique median; fine China. Tens of thousands of pieces of porcelain plates and cups and spoons were utilized to create these two large, fire-breathing creatures. Wait... did she say fire-breathing? Oh yes, she did. Not only are these figures animatronic, they also spew out smoke as their eyes smolder through the haze. Okay so not actual fire, but the effect is still very cool. A loud soundtrack builds up in intensity as the show begins with the two figures completely dormant. Then at the height of the score, their eyes start glowing, their heads start moving back and forth, and finally smoke rolls from their mouths, creating an amazing show. You can see one of these magnificent sculptures in the background of my blog page, as well as a bright pink lotus lantern.
Other pieces are made from recycled water bottles and glass jars, adding to the conservation message that is promoted throughout the garden. In addition to their promotion of Green practices, the exhibits also present a lot of facts about Chinese history and customs. Special-made lanterns serve as text panels and present this information as an art form and as an educational tool. The whole event harkens back to the thousand-year-old tradition of lantern festivals in China and transports the viewers back through time. This way patrons of the event are dazzled by the amazing artworks as they learn more about another culture. More traditional panels show the process by which the lanterns were made and have interactive samples the visitors can touch.
The Missouri Botanical Garden often hosts amazing summer art shows, but this one really takes the cake. Never have I been so captivated and impressed by lanterns and never have I learned so much in the warmth of their glow. It is always a great thing when a museum institution hosts a cultural event. It is very important to be exposed to other cultures in this fast-paced and ever expanding world. It is also important to look back at old traditions and the lessons that they teach us. They have most successfully done this with the lantern festival at the garden this summer and I encourage everyone to go see before the show ends on August 19th.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Conservation Glossary
Today I have been exploring The Fine Arts Conservancy, Stoneledge Inc. glossary of conservation terms. This source is fantastic because not only do they provide terms and definitions, but also some links to sample images. You can check it out here. Enjoy!
Monday, July 16, 2012
Please Do Not Throw Rocks
A recent encounter with some visitors at Laumeier Sculpture Park has left me pondering on the differences in the expected decorum at an arts institution that is outdoors vs. an arts institution that is indoors. Yesterday, as I was participating in a docent-guided tour through the wooded area of the park, we came across a group of adolescents playing with a Frisbee and throwing medium-sized rocks. Though they were a safe distance from other visitors, my first concerning being another stander-by getting hit by one of their flying projectiles, they were within an uncomfortable proximity to an artwork. In the most authoritatively polite tone I could muster, I instructed these young adults to stop throwing rocks and, if they insisted on playing Frisbee, to do so in the large central field at Laumeier, which is perfectly acceptable. I warned them of the area they were in and the proximity to the artwork. I got two immediate responses: "Who are you?" and "I didn't realize this was art."
My response to the first question, in a now more authoritative tone, was "I work here." The seemingly natural response to this was, "Oh." In reference to the second comment, I did point out the rather large sign nearby which labeled the artwork. The question of whether they were really ignorant of the artwork's art status or if they were just giving me hooey, I try to let roll off my shoulders so the tension does not give me a hunchback.
I think what surprised me the most was the, shall we say, "cheek" or "sass" of demanding to know who I was. Now it is possible that because I was some yards away from them, they did not see my Laumeier t-shirt, which somewhat distinguishes me from non-employees (though the same t-shirt is actually on sale in the gift shop), and they thought I was the local art park busy-body. There is no real uniform at Laumeier, just a business casual dress code and some name tags. Even so, at the Kemper Art Museum I am similarly dressed and I have never had a patron question my responsibility to ask them to cease inappropriate behavior. I am grateful to report that I have never caught a visitor at the Kemper throwing rocks.
This led me to reflect on the unique nature and challenges of outdoor sculpture gardens, plazas, and parks and the seemingly different perceptions visitors have of artworks outside vs. artworks inside. I have noted that when visitors are inside of a museum or gallery they are a bit more aware and careful in the space. This is perhaps the effect of early educational conditioning, where we use our inside voices in the classroom and when it is recess we get to shout, scream, run around, jump rope, and throw rubber balls at each other. It is a, "Sh! This is a library," type of mindset, which is understandable in a museum where the artworks' locations are carefully spaced and labeled in a linear elevation on pristine white walls. These places have educational and scholarly connotations to them and posses a very "Sh! This is a library," feel. I have had patrons apologize to me about their mobile phones ringing and many others that will only speak in a whisper. And when I have approached visitors that have gotten to close to a painting, I usually received immediate compliance and sometimes an apology.
On the other hand, when artworks are displayed outdoors everyone is mentally at recess and cannot control that urge for a more tactile experience. At the Kemper Art Museum the outdoor sculpture plaza is where the vast majority of the touching offenses happen. And Laumeier has a lot of climbers... a lot. This is partially due to the outside nature of the park, but also because of the perceived invitation from the larger-than-life pieces to meet the challenge of scaling them and sticking the proverbial flag a top the proverbial Everest. The wide open spaces near the artworks also appear to be encouraging some harmless shenanigans and a good-old-fashioned rollick. I think even the most polite and respectful art-goer sometimes just cannot help themselves. I mean, who doesn't love a good rollick? And a rollick in a field with some art, even better! So when people outdoors are approached about their inappropriate behavior, the response is more, "Oh, oops, sorry," *grumble* *grumble* "Mean old recess monitor." *grumble some more*
I should note that no one, either indoors or outdoors, likes to be approached about inappropriate behavior. I acknowledge this is embarrassing for the visitor, which is why I always attempt to be as friendly and polite as possible. The last thing I want is a patron to feel unwelcome; I just want them to be more careful.
And then there is the, "I didn't realize this was art," response. I take this with a grain of salt, but let's give them the benefit of the doubt and say they didn't actually know. It is possible, especially with site-specific pieces that are meant to blend in harmony with the environment they occupy, not to notice an artwork is an artwork. Pieces such as earthworks or sculptures that look like trees, are not always immediately identifiable as art or even as something man-made. Due to the sometimes cameleon-like nature of these pieces, it is possible a patron could damage art without realizing it. Also, since many outdoor artworks, though thoughtfully placed, are not organized the same way as indoor artworks they may not always be easily identifiable to the public as such. The artworks in the woods at Laumeier are pieces you are supposed to "discover" as you venture down a path. Since they are not blocked out and evenly spaced, as they can be in indoor museums, this reduces the chances of visitors realizing they should practice indoor museum behavior. This may explain instances at Laumeier, but remember the Kemper's sculpture plaza? These artworks are evenly blocked out, raised up on pedestals, and are right next to the museum building, and they still get touched. So that brings us back to the theory of indoor vs. outdoor mentality.
The big question now is how does a museum handle these types of situations? When the artworks are outside it makes it so museum employees cannot always be there to protect them. The only "preventative" actions one can really take is put up signs and offer constant and friendly reminders not to climb or touch. Not everyone listens, though, and there really is no way to eliminate the indoor vs. outdoor mentality that we all learned in grade school. So the only other options to consider are reactionary, which would include a disaster plan should the worst (i.e. vandalism or bodily injury due to climbing and falling) occur. Vandalism does happen indoors, the internet is full of stories of folks kissing Cy Twombly's or rubbing their butts on paintings, but outdoor art leaves open a lot more opportunity for vandalism. Climbing is also a more common outdoor occurrence and is generally more of a problem with sculpture and architecture.
The fact of the matter is, outdoor artworks have very different needs and are viewed by the public in a very different way from indoor artworks. I have noted this from personal experience. In my search on the internet for more information about the challenges of works of art outdoors and how institutions should handle these challenges, I came across a great video, which I invite you all to watch with me. This is a recording of a lecture sponsored by The Getty Conservation Institute in California entitled, Out in the Open: Conservation Challenges of Outdoor Public Art. You can watch it here. It discusses a broad range of issues concerning outdoor art, including unintended contact with visitors. I should make it clear, though, that the way the panel in this video defines public art is very different from the situation at Laumeier. Our artwork is in a public park which is run by St. Louis County Parks, but our artworks are not owned by the park. They either belong to or are on loan to the museum and public funds (i.e. taxes) are never used to pay for them. Even so, the outdoor conditions and issues with the public are similar, which is what makes this video a great resource.
Allow me to wrap up tonight's post with a request: Please do not throw rocks. Please do not throw them near artworks, or buildings, or other people. In fact, please don't throw rocks at all. It's just not a very good idea. Thank you.
Do you work with an outdoor art collection? What are some of the regular problems you have noted with the viewing public and how to do handle them?
My response to the first question, in a now more authoritative tone, was "I work here." The seemingly natural response to this was, "Oh." In reference to the second comment, I did point out the rather large sign nearby which labeled the artwork. The question of whether they were really ignorant of the artwork's art status or if they were just giving me hooey, I try to let roll off my shoulders so the tension does not give me a hunchback.
I think what surprised me the most was the, shall we say, "cheek" or "sass" of demanding to know who I was. Now it is possible that because I was some yards away from them, they did not see my Laumeier t-shirt, which somewhat distinguishes me from non-employees (though the same t-shirt is actually on sale in the gift shop), and they thought I was the local art park busy-body. There is no real uniform at Laumeier, just a business casual dress code and some name tags. Even so, at the Kemper Art Museum I am similarly dressed and I have never had a patron question my responsibility to ask them to cease inappropriate behavior. I am grateful to report that I have never caught a visitor at the Kemper throwing rocks.
This led me to reflect on the unique nature and challenges of outdoor sculpture gardens, plazas, and parks and the seemingly different perceptions visitors have of artworks outside vs. artworks inside. I have noted that when visitors are inside of a museum or gallery they are a bit more aware and careful in the space. This is perhaps the effect of early educational conditioning, where we use our inside voices in the classroom and when it is recess we get to shout, scream, run around, jump rope, and throw rubber balls at each other. It is a, "Sh! This is a library," type of mindset, which is understandable in a museum where the artworks' locations are carefully spaced and labeled in a linear elevation on pristine white walls. These places have educational and scholarly connotations to them and posses a very "Sh! This is a library," feel. I have had patrons apologize to me about their mobile phones ringing and many others that will only speak in a whisper. And when I have approached visitors that have gotten to close to a painting, I usually received immediate compliance and sometimes an apology.
On the other hand, when artworks are displayed outdoors everyone is mentally at recess and cannot control that urge for a more tactile experience. At the Kemper Art Museum the outdoor sculpture plaza is where the vast majority of the touching offenses happen. And Laumeier has a lot of climbers... a lot. This is partially due to the outside nature of the park, but also because of the perceived invitation from the larger-than-life pieces to meet the challenge of scaling them and sticking the proverbial flag a top the proverbial Everest. The wide open spaces near the artworks also appear to be encouraging some harmless shenanigans and a good-old-fashioned rollick. I think even the most polite and respectful art-goer sometimes just cannot help themselves. I mean, who doesn't love a good rollick? And a rollick in a field with some art, even better! So when people outdoors are approached about their inappropriate behavior, the response is more, "Oh, oops, sorry," *grumble* *grumble* "Mean old recess monitor." *grumble some more*
I should note that no one, either indoors or outdoors, likes to be approached about inappropriate behavior. I acknowledge this is embarrassing for the visitor, which is why I always attempt to be as friendly and polite as possible. The last thing I want is a patron to feel unwelcome; I just want them to be more careful.
And then there is the, "I didn't realize this was art," response. I take this with a grain of salt, but let's give them the benefit of the doubt and say they didn't actually know. It is possible, especially with site-specific pieces that are meant to blend in harmony with the environment they occupy, not to notice an artwork is an artwork. Pieces such as earthworks or sculptures that look like trees, are not always immediately identifiable as art or even as something man-made. Due to the sometimes cameleon-like nature of these pieces, it is possible a patron could damage art without realizing it. Also, since many outdoor artworks, though thoughtfully placed, are not organized the same way as indoor artworks they may not always be easily identifiable to the public as such. The artworks in the woods at Laumeier are pieces you are supposed to "discover" as you venture down a path. Since they are not blocked out and evenly spaced, as they can be in indoor museums, this reduces the chances of visitors realizing they should practice indoor museum behavior. This may explain instances at Laumeier, but remember the Kemper's sculpture plaza? These artworks are evenly blocked out, raised up on pedestals, and are right next to the museum building, and they still get touched. So that brings us back to the theory of indoor vs. outdoor mentality.
The big question now is how does a museum handle these types of situations? When the artworks are outside it makes it so museum employees cannot always be there to protect them. The only "preventative" actions one can really take is put up signs and offer constant and friendly reminders not to climb or touch. Not everyone listens, though, and there really is no way to eliminate the indoor vs. outdoor mentality that we all learned in grade school. So the only other options to consider are reactionary, which would include a disaster plan should the worst (i.e. vandalism or bodily injury due to climbing and falling) occur. Vandalism does happen indoors, the internet is full of stories of folks kissing Cy Twombly's or rubbing their butts on paintings, but outdoor art leaves open a lot more opportunity for vandalism. Climbing is also a more common outdoor occurrence and is generally more of a problem with sculpture and architecture.
The fact of the matter is, outdoor artworks have very different needs and are viewed by the public in a very different way from indoor artworks. I have noted this from personal experience. In my search on the internet for more information about the challenges of works of art outdoors and how institutions should handle these challenges, I came across a great video, which I invite you all to watch with me. This is a recording of a lecture sponsored by The Getty Conservation Institute in California entitled, Out in the Open: Conservation Challenges of Outdoor Public Art. You can watch it here. It discusses a broad range of issues concerning outdoor art, including unintended contact with visitors. I should make it clear, though, that the way the panel in this video defines public art is very different from the situation at Laumeier. Our artwork is in a public park which is run by St. Louis County Parks, but our artworks are not owned by the park. They either belong to or are on loan to the museum and public funds (i.e. taxes) are never used to pay for them. Even so, the outdoor conditions and issues with the public are similar, which is what makes this video a great resource.
Allow me to wrap up tonight's post with a request: Please do not throw rocks. Please do not throw them near artworks, or buildings, or other people. In fact, please don't throw rocks at all. It's just not a very good idea. Thank you.
Do you work with an outdoor art collection? What are some of the regular problems you have noted with the viewing public and how to do handle them?
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Go Laumeier!
A positive review written by Laura Elizabeth Barone about Laumeier Sculpture Park's recent exhibition on the temporaryartreview.com. Enjoy!
Camp Out: Finding Home in an Unstable World at Laumeier Sculpture Park
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
The Exhibitionists
Move over Dance Moms and get the hell out of my kitchen Gordan Ramsey! The National Museum Wales and BBC 2 Wales have come together to create a whole new kind of reality television experience, The Exhibitionists, a competition to design and implement an exhibition for the National Museum Cardiff. There are many contestants with creative and new ideas, but only one can win! Read more about it on the walesarts blog here.
I think this is a fantastic idea because not only does it make my inner museum geek very happy, but it also reaches out to a whole new audience. Thousands of viewers who may not already have an interest in museums can now get an in-depth look at what goes into the making of an exhibition. It also has a very strong chance of encouraging more visits to museums from these viewers. Finally a reality TV show I can get behind!
I've noticed, since my time studying in the UK, how the BBC embraces museum institutions in their programing. Since January 2010 BBC One has broadcasted the popular children's game show, Relic: Guardians of the Museum. This is a behind-the-scenes museum adventure for kids, where the young protagonists have nighttime quests in the British Museum in London. Much of the filming is done on a sound stage, but the British Museum did open its doors for the shooting of several linking scenes.
Another series that I really enjoyed while I lived in Scotland was the BBC Two series Museum of Life. This was also a behind-the-scenes look at another popular British institution, the Natural History Museum in London. With Jimmy Doherty guiding the viewing audience, he took cameras back into areas of the museum your average visitor does not get to see. These are just two examples of BBC museum-centered programs, and I have to say it's one of the things I miss the most about the UK.
There are similar shows in the United States, such as the Travel Channel's Mysteries at the Museum, which goes behind the scenes at multiple museums across the US to examine their most bizarre and intriguing artifacts. Yet, where Museum of Life is a journalistic enterprise that inspires wonder, Mysteries at the Museum is a series that does more to incite intrigue in order to attract more of a Dan-Brown-enthused audience.
The BBC has done a lot more to generate museum-based programming that leans strongly towards education rather than entertainment. Not to say the shows are not entertaining, because they really are. The Exhibitionists is actually a really good example of this, because you'll get the reality TV staples of intense challenges met by multiple characters of varying personalities, while simultaneously learning something about how museums work; about how an exhibition comes to life. It will be both insightful and entertaining.
The difference may be in the public and private nature of the respective channels. The BBC is government funded and thus more prone to develop educational programming. Much of the US television world exists in the private sector, so the shows are all about RATINGS! RATINGS! RATINGS! I think the only exceptions are PBS and the Smithsonian Channel.
So my questions are: Can there be a similar behind-the-scenes televisions series in the United States? Can there be museum shows that are more about education than they are about entertaining or just freaking viewers out? Shows that really encourage a wider audience to visit museums? Are there any shows that already do this that I have just overlooked? If I have, please do point them out to me.
I think this is a fantastic idea because not only does it make my inner museum geek very happy, but it also reaches out to a whole new audience. Thousands of viewers who may not already have an interest in museums can now get an in-depth look at what goes into the making of an exhibition. It also has a very strong chance of encouraging more visits to museums from these viewers. Finally a reality TV show I can get behind!
I've noticed, since my time studying in the UK, how the BBC embraces museum institutions in their programing. Since January 2010 BBC One has broadcasted the popular children's game show, Relic: Guardians of the Museum. This is a behind-the-scenes museum adventure for kids, where the young protagonists have nighttime quests in the British Museum in London. Much of the filming is done on a sound stage, but the British Museum did open its doors for the shooting of several linking scenes.
Another series that I really enjoyed while I lived in Scotland was the BBC Two series Museum of Life. This was also a behind-the-scenes look at another popular British institution, the Natural History Museum in London. With Jimmy Doherty guiding the viewing audience, he took cameras back into areas of the museum your average visitor does not get to see. These are just two examples of BBC museum-centered programs, and I have to say it's one of the things I miss the most about the UK.
There are similar shows in the United States, such as the Travel Channel's Mysteries at the Museum, which goes behind the scenes at multiple museums across the US to examine their most bizarre and intriguing artifacts. Yet, where Museum of Life is a journalistic enterprise that inspires wonder, Mysteries at the Museum is a series that does more to incite intrigue in order to attract more of a Dan-Brown-enthused audience.
The BBC has done a lot more to generate museum-based programming that leans strongly towards education rather than entertainment. Not to say the shows are not entertaining, because they really are. The Exhibitionists is actually a really good example of this, because you'll get the reality TV staples of intense challenges met by multiple characters of varying personalities, while simultaneously learning something about how museums work; about how an exhibition comes to life. It will be both insightful and entertaining.
The difference may be in the public and private nature of the respective channels. The BBC is government funded and thus more prone to develop educational programming. Much of the US television world exists in the private sector, so the shows are all about RATINGS! RATINGS! RATINGS! I think the only exceptions are PBS and the Smithsonian Channel.
So my questions are: Can there be a similar behind-the-scenes televisions series in the United States? Can there be museum shows that are more about education than they are about entertaining or just freaking viewers out? Shows that really encourage a wider audience to visit museums? Are there any shows that already do this that I have just overlooked? If I have, please do point them out to me.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Heat Wave
St. Louis has been unbearably hot for the last seven days, and the next seven are supposed to be just as bad. I have spent the past week sitting inside watching much more motivated, possibly crazier, people than myself outside exercising in 104° weather. I have only left the house to go to work. You might think that hot weather outside would drive people do to more inside activities, like visiting the nice environmentally controlled interior of a museum. I've found, though, that this kind of heat keeps a lot more people in than it sends them sprawling to get into an art gallery. It may not seem that difficult to climb into a car, drive the short distance, and walk into the museum, but in this kind of weather the interiors of cars amplify the greenhouse effect by about a thousand. No one wants to put up with that.
That being said, there are still those dedicated museum patrons that will come out in this weather. Yesterday at Laumeier Sculpture Park, which is a mostly outside experience, we still had three small groups show up for the 2:00pm docent tour. I really appreciate these kinds of visitors. I really appreciate anyone who knows how to enjoy and value art and history, no matter the monstrous blaze of the afternoon sun.
I have been wondering about these small bands of dedicated museum goers and also the larger population of those who just stay home. Is there something that museums can do to cater to folks on hot days? Perhaps there is a better approach museums should try in the summer. Something like:
That being said, there are still those dedicated museum patrons that will come out in this weather. Yesterday at Laumeier Sculpture Park, which is a mostly outside experience, we still had three small groups show up for the 2:00pm docent tour. I really appreciate these kinds of visitors. I really appreciate anyone who knows how to enjoy and value art and history, no matter the monstrous blaze of the afternoon sun.
I have been wondering about these small bands of dedicated museum goers and also the larger population of those who just stay home. Is there something that museums can do to cater to folks on hot days? Perhaps there is a better approach museums should try in the summer. Something like:
Heat Wave got you down?
Come to the museum and enjoy
70° F and 50% humidity all afternoon.
Hygrothermograph Guaranteed
Just something I've been thinking about as I try to beat the heat. Do you think more museums should campaign in the summer as a cool and relaxing alternative to outside activities? Do you know of a museum that already does this?
Stay cool everybody.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
A New Job
I am happy to announce that I now am a member of the visitor services team at Laumeier Sculpture Park. It is the most recent in my assortment of part-time jobs as I continue toward my goal of the permanent museum collections job. Laumeier is an amazing institution that is very different from anywhere I have ever worked before. As an added bonus, it is accredited by the American Association of Museums, which considering the outdoor nature of the park, is very impressive.
I was attracted by its accreditation status and the environment of the museum. The vast majority of the artworks are outside, with some on display in the five indoor galleries. The collection includes and has included many big name artists, including Donald Judd, Andy Goldsworthy, Ursula Von Rydingsvard, Mark di Suvero, and Ernest Trova. All artworks are thoughtfully placed throughout the park grounds, in the field or in the woods. It's always fun to explore nature and art together.
I work weekends as a Museum Services Associate, and it’s quite cool because I am included on the employee contact webpage. That's a first for me and I am quite tickled by it. The position also comes with a lot of responsibility. I work under the direction of the Museum Services Manager and I share my duties with a second Museum Services Associate. Today is only my second day, but so far so good. I like it here.
Now you must be asking yourself: Is this crazy lady working at the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts, the Mildred Lane Kemper Art Museum, the Missouri History Museum, and Laumeier Sculpture Park? Does she sleep? Does she live on a diet of coffee beans and lattés to maintain her drive? The answer is nope; I hate coffee. But I have actually resigned one of my part-time jobs, with July 4th being my last day. After five years of working the Pulitzer I decided it was time to move on. I was seeking a job where I had more responsibility and could gain more administrative/managerial experience. Laumeier meets these needs and the Pulitzer, while a great experience, was not a place where I could get those opportunities. I wish them well, I will miss all of my friends and co-workers, and I will be back for plenty of visits. It was just time to go.
So here I am at the start of another adventure. I anticipate that it will be another great experience and I am very happy with my current career choice. The only thing that would make me happier is a full-time job, but I have a positive feeling. I hope it's only a matter of time. And when I do get a Monday through Firday job, I will still be able to work weekends at Laumeier. So yeah, I am a bit crazy.
I was attracted by its accreditation status and the environment of the museum. The vast majority of the artworks are outside, with some on display in the five indoor galleries. The collection includes and has included many big name artists, including Donald Judd, Andy Goldsworthy, Ursula Von Rydingsvard, Mark di Suvero, and Ernest Trova. All artworks are thoughtfully placed throughout the park grounds, in the field or in the woods. It's always fun to explore nature and art together.
I work weekends as a Museum Services Associate, and it’s quite cool because I am included on the employee contact webpage. That's a first for me and I am quite tickled by it. The position also comes with a lot of responsibility. I work under the direction of the Museum Services Manager and I share my duties with a second Museum Services Associate. Today is only my second day, but so far so good. I like it here.
Now you must be asking yourself: Is this crazy lady working at the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts, the Mildred Lane Kemper Art Museum, the Missouri History Museum, and Laumeier Sculpture Park? Does she sleep? Does she live on a diet of coffee beans and lattés to maintain her drive? The answer is nope; I hate coffee. But I have actually resigned one of my part-time jobs, with July 4th being my last day. After five years of working the Pulitzer I decided it was time to move on. I was seeking a job where I had more responsibility and could gain more administrative/managerial experience. Laumeier meets these needs and the Pulitzer, while a great experience, was not a place where I could get those opportunities. I wish them well, I will miss all of my friends and co-workers, and I will be back for plenty of visits. It was just time to go.
So here I am at the start of another adventure. I anticipate that it will be another great experience and I am very happy with my current career choice. The only thing that would make me happier is a full-time job, but I have a positive feeling. I hope it's only a matter of time. And when I do get a Monday through Firday job, I will still be able to work weekends at Laumeier. So yeah, I am a bit crazy.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Grand Pianos at the Pulitzer
Last Tuesday afternoon I was scheduled to attend a concert rehearsal at the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts in my capacity as a gallery attendant. I had done this before, so I was expecting an easy task where I could do a bit of recreational reading and hear a spot of music. The Pulitzer and the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra have done many of these collaborative shows in order to promote contemporary art and music. The Pulitzer building provides a great modern space and surprisingly amazing acoustics for such an event, and they are very popular with our visitors. In fact, the concert series from this past weekend was sold out.
So, I went down into the Lower Gallery where I found two grand pianos patiently waiting to be played. I at once developed more enthusiasm for how I was about to spend the afternoon. Though I never excelled myself at playing keyboard instruments, the piano and the harpsichord happen to be my two favorites. The piano for its stoic figure trouncing out delightful pulses of sound, and the harpsichord for being more playful and sending out pleasant vibrations in its plucky way. When the pianist arrived with the event coordinator, I sat up and listened. From the moment he began playing I replaced my bookmark and shut my historical non-fiction book, How The Scots Invented the Modern World, and that is how it remained. Sorry Scotland, but I did give you a year of my life, so you can wait until this rehearsal is over.
First the pianist was trying to figure out which of the two grands to utilize for the concert. Option number one was well tuned and sounded great. Option number two also sounded amazing in addition to having a much more delightful feel to it. The sound was warmer and the reverberating notes just hit my chest in a more agreeable way than the first. The two men discussed and compared the two pianos, and I was thrilled when the pianist turned to me and asked for my opinion. It just made me feel like I had a larger role in the whole process. I told him the second, and they were both in agreement.
Then the pianist began to play. The piece is an approximately one hour long composition entitled The People Will Never Be Defeated! by Frederic Rzewski. I had never heard this music before and I was not even familiar with the composer, but by the time the pianist hit those final keys I felt I knew him. I think perhaps Rzewski was trying to tell a story. It starts with a march that fragments off into a series of rapid fire notes that have the qualities of both a nuclear physicist's mathematical equations and the unpredictable trajectories of shrapnel. In other words, it's complicated and it's all over the place. It kind of sounded like someone took the sheet music of Beethoven, Bach, and Debussy and shot it out of a cannon. Then someone sent an intern around to gather up all the paper fragments, glued them together, and then increased the tempo by ten times. The pianist's ability to play this piece is awe-inspiring since it was so fast and so mentally and physically difficult to play. I think I may have even seen smoke rising off his head at one point. In the end, the piece returns to the nationalistic melody of the march, but includes many of the complex patterns of notes that dominated the middle of the piece. I think a perfect analogy for this music is that of a boy who grows up within a safe and set structure, then he becomes a young man and goes off into the world trying anything and everything that is new, finally, once he has matured he returns to the safety and comfort of home bringing all his experiences with him. That's why I say the piece makes me feel like a know Rzewski. I have to ask myself, did he compose his autobiography in musical form?
I only got to watch the rehearsal, since I did not work the concert, but I feel I got the better of the two shows (though the pianist says the actual performance was the best he'd ever played it). I think I got the superior show because I got to interact with the pianist, discuss the piece, hear certain parts more than once, and help pick the piano. That just tickled me, really. Very cool. Experiences like this are the reason why I have always enjoyed working at the Pulitzer. Music in the Pulitzer is unlike any music you have ever heard. And others have noticed this as well, which is why the concerts sold out months ago.
Have you ever attended a musical performance at a museum or gallery? How do you feel the environment and the music compliment each other?
So, I went down into the Lower Gallery where I found two grand pianos patiently waiting to be played. I at once developed more enthusiasm for how I was about to spend the afternoon. Though I never excelled myself at playing keyboard instruments, the piano and the harpsichord happen to be my two favorites. The piano for its stoic figure trouncing out delightful pulses of sound, and the harpsichord for being more playful and sending out pleasant vibrations in its plucky way. When the pianist arrived with the event coordinator, I sat up and listened. From the moment he began playing I replaced my bookmark and shut my historical non-fiction book, How The Scots Invented the Modern World, and that is how it remained. Sorry Scotland, but I did give you a year of my life, so you can wait until this rehearsal is over.
First the pianist was trying to figure out which of the two grands to utilize for the concert. Option number one was well tuned and sounded great. Option number two also sounded amazing in addition to having a much more delightful feel to it. The sound was warmer and the reverberating notes just hit my chest in a more agreeable way than the first. The two men discussed and compared the two pianos, and I was thrilled when the pianist turned to me and asked for my opinion. It just made me feel like I had a larger role in the whole process. I told him the second, and they were both in agreement.
Then the pianist began to play. The piece is an approximately one hour long composition entitled The People Will Never Be Defeated! by Frederic Rzewski. I had never heard this music before and I was not even familiar with the composer, but by the time the pianist hit those final keys I felt I knew him. I think perhaps Rzewski was trying to tell a story. It starts with a march that fragments off into a series of rapid fire notes that have the qualities of both a nuclear physicist's mathematical equations and the unpredictable trajectories of shrapnel. In other words, it's complicated and it's all over the place. It kind of sounded like someone took the sheet music of Beethoven, Bach, and Debussy and shot it out of a cannon. Then someone sent an intern around to gather up all the paper fragments, glued them together, and then increased the tempo by ten times. The pianist's ability to play this piece is awe-inspiring since it was so fast and so mentally and physically difficult to play. I think I may have even seen smoke rising off his head at one point. In the end, the piece returns to the nationalistic melody of the march, but includes many of the complex patterns of notes that dominated the middle of the piece. I think a perfect analogy for this music is that of a boy who grows up within a safe and set structure, then he becomes a young man and goes off into the world trying anything and everything that is new, finally, once he has matured he returns to the safety and comfort of home bringing all his experiences with him. That's why I say the piece makes me feel like a know Rzewski. I have to ask myself, did he compose his autobiography in musical form?
I only got to watch the rehearsal, since I did not work the concert, but I feel I got the better of the two shows (though the pianist says the actual performance was the best he'd ever played it). I think I got the superior show because I got to interact with the pianist, discuss the piece, hear certain parts more than once, and help pick the piano. That just tickled me, really. Very cool. Experiences like this are the reason why I have always enjoyed working at the Pulitzer. Music in the Pulitzer is unlike any music you have ever heard. And others have noticed this as well, which is why the concerts sold out months ago.
Have you ever attended a musical performance at a museum or gallery? How do you feel the environment and the music compliment each other?
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
An Afternoon at Laumeier
On Sunday I decided to spend a couple hours hiking around one of St. Louis' nicest outdoor locations, Laumeier Sculpture Park. Laumeier is home to many unique and incredible artworks that populate the park's nature trail, fields, and area around the museum shop and indoor gallery. As I drove out there I was expecting some time to myself; a simple and quiet excursion with local fauna and some great, larger-than-life sculptures. So imagine my surprise when I found myself as one of the many attendees of the PNC Arts Alive: Discover Laumeier Festival. The afternoon turned out to be a lot more fun and interesting than I had originally intended. Not only did I enjoy the festival, I also got to reconnect with an old friend who was volunteering at the event. He and I got some henna tattoos, one of the many free and fun activities at the festival, and then I got my own personalized tour. There is nothing like a walk in the woods where the inhabitants are the site-specific creations of artists' imaginations with your own guide. I would compare it to Willy Wonka taking you around his chocolate factory, except at Laumeier I imagine they would frown on it if I tried to eat any of the artworks.
One of my favorite pieces at Laumeier, which my friend and I interacted with and talked about, is actually a bridge by Dan Graham entitled Triangular Bridge Over Water. This piece is really interesting because it plays a number of tricks on the eyes. As you step onto the iron grating of the structure your gaze it drawn downward to the water, which is viewed through numerous small rectangles, like a grid. While staring at the water babbling passed the assurance of solid ground melts away. Once you look up and rub that optical trick from your eyes there is another. To one side there is a second grid, no longer below your feet but vertical and rising over you at an angle, with much larger rectangular sections. It looks like multiple windows stacked on top of each other and it divides the landscape into categories. Like the artist is trying to organize the view for you into individual blocks, meant to be taken in one at a time. This view is less disorienting than the first and makes you feel like the world has been put back into its proper place; nicely packaged and organized in a way that makes visual sense. Just as you are feeling at peace with the world again, you turn 180 degrees and are met by four panels of two-way mirrors that reflect you, the grating and stream below, the grid and landscape behind, and still allow you to view the landscape in front. The eyes try to focus on something but they really can't. All you can see are leaves forming a human silhouette that moves as you do and as you don't, because it waves as the branches dance in the breeze and shimmers as the sunlight bounces off the stream. The world that surrounds this silhouette is made up of large grids, small grids, no grids, leaves, water, branches, sky, tinted glass, and the occasional squirrel. Dan Graham's bridge is marvelous. What appears to be a simple conduit from one side of a stream to the other is actually a composite of frames that completely reshapes how the viewer sees the landscape.
My other favorite piece at Laumeier is also out hiding in the woods. This is a piece by the artist Mary Miss called Pool Complex: Orchard Valley and it touches on a lot of archeological themes and focuses on the passage of time. Mary Miss actually incorporated an abandoned pool that was built back in the early 20th century when Laumeier was not a public park but instead someone's private land. The family that originally built the pool also incorporated a kitchen and dance floor, and the site was often used for entertaining. The artist built several wooden structures that invite visitors to circumvent and explore the area surrounding the original pool. Her attraction to the site was the ruinous feel of this old, cement-lined hole. Like so many cultures that have built up on top of the architectural remains of their past, Mary Miss wanted to redevelop what she viewed as an archeological site. The material she used, mostly wood, is not treated with any type of protective coating, so it too will reflect the passage of time as it ages and decays. Her point, I believe, is that time eventually erodes away everything we create, sometimes with the exception of the basic forms and foundations which are buried. Buried and lost, or perhaps buried with the hope of eventual rediscovery. She calls our attention back to the past and how it shapes our present and maybe even our future. That's pretty deep for a six-foot shallow swimming pool. It's an amazing piece. I also just want to add that the name Mary Miss is an incredibly endearing name and makes me like the piece more.
There is so much more art to be discovered and explored out at Laumeier Sculpture Park. In addition to the permanent pieces they also put on rotating exhibitions, both in the indoor galleries and out in the park. The current exhibition is Camp Out: Finding Home In An Unstable World. Tied into this exhibition are programs and activities, like the festival I happily stumbled into, and I already have plans to return for the September 7th campfire chat with the Camp Out artist Michael Rakowtiz (with the added plus of ghost stories), as well as the September 8th-9th overnight in Laumeier. Setting up a tent and toasting some s'mores next to a work by Donald Judd!? Yes Please!!!
Have you ever visited a sculpture park or garden? How did you feel about viewing art out in nature rather than in a traditional museum?
One of my favorite pieces at Laumeier, which my friend and I interacted with and talked about, is actually a bridge by Dan Graham entitled Triangular Bridge Over Water. This piece is really interesting because it plays a number of tricks on the eyes. As you step onto the iron grating of the structure your gaze it drawn downward to the water, which is viewed through numerous small rectangles, like a grid. While staring at the water babbling passed the assurance of solid ground melts away. Once you look up and rub that optical trick from your eyes there is another. To one side there is a second grid, no longer below your feet but vertical and rising over you at an angle, with much larger rectangular sections. It looks like multiple windows stacked on top of each other and it divides the landscape into categories. Like the artist is trying to organize the view for you into individual blocks, meant to be taken in one at a time. This view is less disorienting than the first and makes you feel like the world has been put back into its proper place; nicely packaged and organized in a way that makes visual sense. Just as you are feeling at peace with the world again, you turn 180 degrees and are met by four panels of two-way mirrors that reflect you, the grating and stream below, the grid and landscape behind, and still allow you to view the landscape in front. The eyes try to focus on something but they really can't. All you can see are leaves forming a human silhouette that moves as you do and as you don't, because it waves as the branches dance in the breeze and shimmers as the sunlight bounces off the stream. The world that surrounds this silhouette is made up of large grids, small grids, no grids, leaves, water, branches, sky, tinted glass, and the occasional squirrel. Dan Graham's bridge is marvelous. What appears to be a simple conduit from one side of a stream to the other is actually a composite of frames that completely reshapes how the viewer sees the landscape.
My other favorite piece at Laumeier is also out hiding in the woods. This is a piece by the artist Mary Miss called Pool Complex: Orchard Valley and it touches on a lot of archeological themes and focuses on the passage of time. Mary Miss actually incorporated an abandoned pool that was built back in the early 20th century when Laumeier was not a public park but instead someone's private land. The family that originally built the pool also incorporated a kitchen and dance floor, and the site was often used for entertaining. The artist built several wooden structures that invite visitors to circumvent and explore the area surrounding the original pool. Her attraction to the site was the ruinous feel of this old, cement-lined hole. Like so many cultures that have built up on top of the architectural remains of their past, Mary Miss wanted to redevelop what she viewed as an archeological site. The material she used, mostly wood, is not treated with any type of protective coating, so it too will reflect the passage of time as it ages and decays. Her point, I believe, is that time eventually erodes away everything we create, sometimes with the exception of the basic forms and foundations which are buried. Buried and lost, or perhaps buried with the hope of eventual rediscovery. She calls our attention back to the past and how it shapes our present and maybe even our future. That's pretty deep for a six-foot shallow swimming pool. It's an amazing piece. I also just want to add that the name Mary Miss is an incredibly endearing name and makes me like the piece more.
There is so much more art to be discovered and explored out at Laumeier Sculpture Park. In addition to the permanent pieces they also put on rotating exhibitions, both in the indoor galleries and out in the park. The current exhibition is Camp Out: Finding Home In An Unstable World. Tied into this exhibition are programs and activities, like the festival I happily stumbled into, and I already have plans to return for the September 7th campfire chat with the Camp Out artist Michael Rakowtiz (with the added plus of ghost stories), as well as the September 8th-9th overnight in Laumeier. Setting up a tent and toasting some s'mores next to a work by Donald Judd!? Yes Please!!!
Have you ever visited a sculpture park or garden? How did you feel about viewing art out in nature rather than in a traditional museum?
Thursday, May 31, 2012
History Museum Blog Guest Post
This week a post I wrote for the Missouri History Museum has been published on their blog, History Happens Here. While I was condition reporting for an exhibition called Fire! Friend and Foe I came across an object that took me on a trip down nostalgia way. You can read about it here.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
A Small Promotion
I am happy to report that I have made a small but significant advancement this week. I recently managed to get a promotion at my part-time job at the Kemper Art Museum. I have gone from security guard to a security captain, which basically means that I help manage the security guards as directed by the security manager and two assistant security managers. Okay, so there is no corner office and permission to use the company plane, but I am really glad about this. It provides me with more experience as a supervisor and it makes me feel like I must be doing something right. What I want right now is more to do and more responsibility, which is what this job gives me. One day I hope to have much, much more responsibility, but this will do for now. I have to admit, the duration of my job hunt has been very long and very tiring. So I celebrate every interview and every little promotion as a step in the right direction. I have been doing this Cirque du Soleil juggling act for six months now and I've got a lot of balls up in the air at the moment. Now I must admit, I am a lousy juggler but I should be able to catch just one. Something is going to work out, and soon. But until then, I will continue working hard at the jobs that I have and I will continue to put forth my greatest effort.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Mythology and Modern Art
Currently on view at the Kemper Art Museum is an exhibition entitled The Persistence of Myth. This show displays ancient pottery depicting scenes from Greek mythology alongside 20th century artworks likewise displaying classical themes. Now, as a card-carrying member (and former Vice President) of Truman State's Eta Sigma Phi (Classics Honors Society), I have to release my inner geek and allow her to prate on about this show for a bit.
I would like to begin with the five ancient, painted pots we have on display. Hercules (or Herakles), who is a very popular figure in mythology, appears on two of the earthenware, black-figure pieces. On the Long-Nose Painter's amphora he subdues the three-headed guard dog of the underworld, Cerberus, with the aid of Hermes, while Hades and Persephone watch and protest. In a nearby case Hercules is seen battling again, this time across the face of the Athena Painter's lekythos, with another famous monster, the Nemean lion. In both of these images, Hercules is depicted as a mature and bearded man, though the figure depicted by the Long-Nose Painter is much older. His age is apparent by his slightly fatigued stoop and the fact that he is wearing the lion skin which he combats for on the lekythos. It is actually really interesting that these two images were chosen for this show, because in addition to displaying popular motifs and technique, they also display the very first and the very last of the famous Labors of Hercules.
On other pots the monsters and titans of myth dominate the scene. The lekythos of the Diosphos Painter depicts a battle between the Olympian gods and the giant offspring of the earth mother goddess, Gaia, who were sent forth to avenge the fallen Titans. This scene is referred to as a Gigantomachy, with the preceding battle with the Titans similarly called the Titanomachy. This was a popular theme where the gods represented the cosmic order and the giants personified the destructive forces of chaos. Essentially, one of the earliest forms of the struggle of good vs. evil, heaven vs. hell. A very popular theme in Greece, especially after the defeat of the invading Persian Empire in 449 BC. The other famous monster present in the show is the half-woman, half-lion who guards the gates of Thebes with her riddles. The sphinx, which was a popular image and considered protective, found its way into Greek mythology from the Ancient Near East. She appears as a decorative form in the company of some lions, a griffin, and a siren on the Lotus Cross Painter's pyxis.
The last pot is the Nolan Amphora of the Hermonax Painter. Here two red-figure images are caught in a popular chase motif, showing a mature, bearded man chasing an adolescent boy. Though it is not certain, this is possibly a depiction of Zeus's abduction of Ganymede, a beautiful young mortal that the king of the gods wished to have as his cupbearer on Mount Olympus. In the legend, though, Zeus comes down and scoops up the young man in the form of an eagle, so this could just be a reference to the customary Greek social relationship between older men and young boys known as the paiderastia.
I would like to begin with the five ancient, painted pots we have on display. Hercules (or Herakles), who is a very popular figure in mythology, appears on two of the earthenware, black-figure pieces. On the Long-Nose Painter's amphora he subdues the three-headed guard dog of the underworld, Cerberus, with the aid of Hermes, while Hades and Persephone watch and protest. In a nearby case Hercules is seen battling again, this time across the face of the Athena Painter's lekythos, with another famous monster, the Nemean lion. In both of these images, Hercules is depicted as a mature and bearded man, though the figure depicted by the Long-Nose Painter is much older. His age is apparent by his slightly fatigued stoop and the fact that he is wearing the lion skin which he combats for on the lekythos. It is actually really interesting that these two images were chosen for this show, because in addition to displaying popular motifs and technique, they also display the very first and the very last of the famous Labors of Hercules.
On other pots the monsters and titans of myth dominate the scene. The lekythos of the Diosphos Painter depicts a battle between the Olympian gods and the giant offspring of the earth mother goddess, Gaia, who were sent forth to avenge the fallen Titans. This scene is referred to as a Gigantomachy, with the preceding battle with the Titans similarly called the Titanomachy. This was a popular theme where the gods represented the cosmic order and the giants personified the destructive forces of chaos. Essentially, one of the earliest forms of the struggle of good vs. evil, heaven vs. hell. A very popular theme in Greece, especially after the defeat of the invading Persian Empire in 449 BC. The other famous monster present in the show is the half-woman, half-lion who guards the gates of Thebes with her riddles. The sphinx, which was a popular image and considered protective, found its way into Greek mythology from the Ancient Near East. She appears as a decorative form in the company of some lions, a griffin, and a siren on the Lotus Cross Painter's pyxis.
The last pot is the Nolan Amphora of the Hermonax Painter. Here two red-figure images are caught in a popular chase motif, showing a mature, bearded man chasing an adolescent boy. Though it is not certain, this is possibly a depiction of Zeus's abduction of Ganymede, a beautiful young mortal that the king of the gods wished to have as his cupbearer on Mount Olympus. In the legend, though, Zeus comes down and scoops up the young man in the form of an eagle, so this could just be a reference to the customary Greek social relationship between older men and young boys known as the paiderastia.
What all these pots and ancient subjects have in common is the apparent desire of the artists to tell stories that represented the social mores, fears, and ideals of their time. Stories about good vs. evil, heroes that represent the ideal man, riddling monsters that harken from foreign lands, and scenes of edifying male relationships, are all attempts to explain, justify, and come to terms with the world around them. In this way, art has not changed in the last 7,000 years, and the contemporary pieces in the exhibition demonstrate this. The 20th century pieces in the show recount popular myths to represent modern ideals and anxieties, and thus create connections between the world of the ancient Greeks and our prevailing times.
There are more modern artworks in the show than there are pots, so I will just focus on a couple. A very modern political and social application of the ancient myth of a certain Greek king from Ithaca sounds out from Fritz Scholder's The Odyssey #2. In this lithograph from 1981, a Native American is depicted with his back to the viewer, wearing a simple deerskin flap and leaning against a long staff. The man seems down-trodden and more weary than the mature Hercules on the nearby amphora. His hand is raised up to his brow to shield the sun from his eyes as he gazes across the Great Plains looking for what he has lost; his land and his home. Unlike Odysseus, whose bravery and persistence meant he would eventually find his way home, the viewer senses this red man will never pass across his threshold into the familiar ever again. Scholder entitled his artwork after the blind bard's famous epic king to draw connections between the long journey home of Greek heroes and the unending search for the lost lands of the Native Americans. The Odysseus figure thus becomes a sort of poster-child for all men who are searching for what has vanished.
On the wall just opposite of the red Odysseus there is a engraving by Andre Racz entitled Perseus Beheading Medusa VIII. This image, with a dull brown background enlivened by the figures' bold black lines, violent reds, and nimbus-like white highlights, shows a victorious Perseus holding up the head of the recently slain gorgon. With his artwork, Racz wanted to depict the conquest of good over evil following the end of the Second World War. So the triumph of Perseus becomes the triumph of the Allied Armies and the defeated gorgon the end of the domineering and threatening National Socialist Party in Germany. Very similar to the way the Greeks used the Gigantomachy to represent their victory in the Greco-Persian wars.
There are many more pieces in the show that all share equally relevant themes from our present and our past, which I am certain will remain relevant in the future. I really enjoy this particular exhibit, from both a Classics geek's perspective and from the vantage point of a young woman who admires resonance and modern art.
Can you think of any modern pieces that reference ancient myth? How do these artworks illustrate modern themes or events?
An acknowledgement to Heather Read, PhD student in the department of Art History and Archaeology, and Elizabeth Wolfson, MA student in the department of Art History and Archaeology at Washington University in St. Louis. I referenced the leaflet they jointly composed for both art and artists' information as well as modern views and interpretations throughout this post. This leaflet can be found in the Teaching Gallery where the exhibition is currently on display.
There are many more pieces in the show that all share equally relevant themes from our present and our past, which I am certain will remain relevant in the future. I really enjoy this particular exhibit, from both a Classics geek's perspective and from the vantage point of a young woman who admires resonance and modern art.
Can you think of any modern pieces that reference ancient myth? How do these artworks illustrate modern themes or events?
An acknowledgement to Heather Read, PhD student in the department of Art History and Archaeology, and Elizabeth Wolfson, MA student in the department of Art History and Archaeology at Washington University in St. Louis. I referenced the leaflet they jointly composed for both art and artists' information as well as modern views and interpretations throughout this post. This leaflet can be found in the Teaching Gallery where the exhibition is currently on display.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Weekly Reading Assignment: The 1970 Convention Past and Future
Today I have been reading the The Fight Against the Illicit Trafficking of Cultural Objects, The 1970 Convention: Past and Future. Released by UNESCO in March 2011, this Information Kit presents trafficking and recovery statistics, current and updated policies, information about different conventions, and more. You will be floored when you read the numbers and values of objects that have been looted throughout the world. I certainly was. It may take a while to get through, but reading an information kit like this is important because it keeps you up-to-date with policies and makes you aware of what items have a higher chance of possessing an illicit provenance.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Moving Objects
Just wanted to share a couple things I have learned from transporting objects.
1.) Sprinters > Cargo Vans
2.) Gator board boxes are the best
3.) You can never have enough tissue paper and boxes, but most of the time there actually won't be enough tissue paper and boxes; so you'll just have to get creative!
4.) Packing foam is not only good for padding boxes but also for putting some cushion between aching knees and concrete floors
5.) Always wear comfy shoes
6.) You can never have too many flatbed karts
7.) Large rolls of bubble wrap are very hug-able, especially when you are fatigued and you need something to lean against
8.) Packing tape is a necessary and stinky evil
9.) Plastic sheets are gigantic and packing blankets are comparatively tiny
10.) Keep track of your pink slips!
11.) Always take the precaution to make sure you don't load karts and object boxes into the freight elevator in such a way that they trap the interns
12.) It takes SO much more time to pack than it does to unpack, which does make the end of the day feel a bit anticlimactic so you'll have to celebrate with a lunch to perk things up a bit
1.) Sprinters > Cargo Vans
2.) Gator board boxes are the best
3.) You can never have enough tissue paper and boxes, but most of the time there actually won't be enough tissue paper and boxes; so you'll just have to get creative!
4.) Packing foam is not only good for padding boxes but also for putting some cushion between aching knees and concrete floors
5.) Always wear comfy shoes
6.) You can never have too many flatbed karts
7.) Large rolls of bubble wrap are very hug-able, especially when you are fatigued and you need something to lean against
8.) Packing tape is a necessary and stinky evil
9.) Plastic sheets are gigantic and packing blankets are comparatively tiny
10.) Keep track of your pink slips!
11.) Always take the precaution to make sure you don't load karts and object boxes into the freight elevator in such a way that they trap the interns
12.) It takes SO much more time to pack than it does to unpack, which does make the end of the day feel a bit anticlimactic so you'll have to celebrate with a lunch to perk things up a bit
Monday, May 7, 2012
Museum Heists in Movies
Recently, as I was flipping through the TV channels, I came across the 1999 remake of The Thomas Crown Affair. Now I love Pierce Brosnan just as much as the next girl with an over-enthusiasm for Celtic actors and I love it even more when major scenes in a film take place in a museum. Even so, I have to admit that the first ten minutes of the movie, which is the big art heist scene, just made me laugh at the improbability of the whole situation. The security depicted at the Metropolitan Museum of Art consists of the kinds of high-tech gadgets, heavy security gates, and taser-wielding guards that only Hollywood could dream up. Let me talk a little about each one.
One of the first things Mr. Crown's decoy thieves do is disable the electronic bolts that hold the paintings to the walls. I can think of no museum that would use a system like this. For one thing, such bolts would have to be set to one specific point on the wall, which is very inflexible. Museums need to be able to rotate artworks of various dimensions, which makes the point on the wall where they are hung different each time. Most museums just attach their paintings to the walls with security screws, which may not be as fancy as electric locks, but they certainly make it easier to rearrange the elevation of the artworks. Next, the thieves disable the air-conditioning in the targeted rooms so the thermal cameras would not be able to detect their body heat. Thermal cameras? Really? No museum would utilize thermal cameras when regular cameras will do. Then there is the heavy gate, which they apparently borrowed from the creators of Jurassic Park, that drops to prevent thieves from leaving the galleries. Now it may have been able to trap a velociraptor, but Mr. Crown was able to escape with the aid of his titanium-lined briefcase. Sorry folks, no gates. Then there was my favorite aspect of the movie-imagined museum security, and that was the liberal use of tasers by the security guards. I have been a security guard for quite some time now and no one has issued me a taser. In fact, I believe only officers of the law are permitted to taze perpetrators. Though I have to admit, the idea does have a certain appeal.
Now I realize that this is a movie and movies are rarely rooted in reality. Films are meant to be fun and over-the-top because that is what entertains. Even though I am completely aware of this, inaccurate events in a motion picture do tend to get me ranting, and I know I'm not the only one. I remember an evening when I watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade with two of my classmates, and all of us started shrieking when Harrison Ford began wiping off the surface of a centuries-old tablet with champagne. Okay folks, we all do it. So while I'm on a roll, I thought of some more movies to talk about.
One of the first things Mr. Crown's decoy thieves do is disable the electronic bolts that hold the paintings to the walls. I can think of no museum that would use a system like this. For one thing, such bolts would have to be set to one specific point on the wall, which is very inflexible. Museums need to be able to rotate artworks of various dimensions, which makes the point on the wall where they are hung different each time. Most museums just attach their paintings to the walls with security screws, which may not be as fancy as electric locks, but they certainly make it easier to rearrange the elevation of the artworks. Next, the thieves disable the air-conditioning in the targeted rooms so the thermal cameras would not be able to detect their body heat. Thermal cameras? Really? No museum would utilize thermal cameras when regular cameras will do. Then there is the heavy gate, which they apparently borrowed from the creators of Jurassic Park, that drops to prevent thieves from leaving the galleries. Now it may have been able to trap a velociraptor, but Mr. Crown was able to escape with the aid of his titanium-lined briefcase. Sorry folks, no gates. Then there was my favorite aspect of the movie-imagined museum security, and that was the liberal use of tasers by the security guards. I have been a security guard for quite some time now and no one has issued me a taser. In fact, I believe only officers of the law are permitted to taze perpetrators. Though I have to admit, the idea does have a certain appeal.
Now I realize that this is a movie and movies are rarely rooted in reality. Films are meant to be fun and over-the-top because that is what entertains. Even though I am completely aware of this, inaccurate events in a motion picture do tend to get me ranting, and I know I'm not the only one. I remember an evening when I watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade with two of my classmates, and all of us started shrieking when Harrison Ford began wiping off the surface of a centuries-old tablet with champagne. Okay folks, we all do it. So while I'm on a roll, I thought of some more movies to talk about.
Another famous art heist film that comes to mind is the 1999 Entrapment, starring Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones. One of the big scenes is set in a castle that is actually utilized like a museum in its display, but not so much in its security. It is here we find one of Hollywood's most shamelessly over-used security measures: the web of laser beams. It amazes me that these complex and high-tech security systems are somehow always traversable so long as a women is able to do some yoga and lift her derriere high up off the ground. Of course, the only other way to cross a laser field would be to dance through using capoeira skills like Vincent Cassel in Ocean's Twelve. There are no laser beams, but a lot of museums do have motion detectors. A detector that monitors the movement throughout an entire space makes much more sense then a series of thin beams with huge gaps for thieves to boogie through. And then there are the pressure switches, which require the thief to remove the item quickly and hold down the button so an alarm doesn't go off and to prevent the large round stone from rolling down and crushing them. Sorry folks, no pressure switches.
The last film I am going to talk about is the ever-so-slightly more realistic art theft comedy, The Maiden Heist from 2009. The realism comes from a complete lack of high-tech and fancy gadgets. In this film there are three security guards who cannot bare to be separated from their favorite artworks, which the museum is planning to sell to another institution in Denmark. In order to keep them in the country, they plan a complex and covert inside-job heist in order to take possession of two paintings and a sculpture. Their methods are pretty clever and their blunders comical, right down to a nude William H. Macy stuck in the back of an art courier's van. But the involvement of security guards, as far as actually handling and moving the art, is completely unlikely. Security just stands and watches as preparators and professional art movers handle the artworks and the crates, so the characters would not have had the opportunities they did in the film to steal the artworks.
From these films, it is apparent there are two popular themes in Hollywood art heist movies. One is the use of flashy security systems that guide the action in more entertaining directions. These heists require lots of skill, high-tech equipment, and planning on the part of the thieves. The other popular concept in art theft is the idea of the "inside job," and that the only way anyone could take an artwork is to have someone working from within the institution. As far as the reality goes, both these concepts are false. The vast majority of successful museum thefts have been smash-and-grab affairs with a small number of non-museum related people involved. Usually, thefts are committed during daylight hours, and even when the museum is open. Thieves will use force and the element of surprise to grab and go. Since artworks are usually screwed to the walls, robbers are not hesitant to damage a piece by cutting it out of its frame. In the instances where objects that are not paintings, cases can be smashed open, as they were in the Iraqi Museum, or some items torn out of their displays, such as the case with the white rhinoceros horn in France. You can read about some of the more famous thefts on the FBI Art Theft page here.
The fact of the matter is real museum thefts aren't that entertaining. They require no tight black outfits or thermal sensors. They usually just entail speed and brute force, and they happen too quickly for drawn-out shots of impressive dances through laser fields. Perhaps that is my real problem with Hollywood art heist films; they make something hasty and loutish seem thrilling and cunning.
Can you think of any other movies with complex and high-tech heist scenes? What do you think of the depiction of museums in film?
The fact of the matter is real museum thefts aren't that entertaining. They require no tight black outfits or thermal sensors. They usually just entail speed and brute force, and they happen too quickly for drawn-out shots of impressive dances through laser fields. Perhaps that is my real problem with Hollywood art heist films; they make something hasty and loutish seem thrilling and cunning.
Can you think of any other movies with complex and high-tech heist scenes? What do you think of the depiction of museums in film?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)