OPA!!!

This Friday the Kemper Art Museum will be opening a new show in the Garen Gallery, a temporary exhibition space. The exhibition is called Frederick Hartt and American Abstraction in the 1950s, and includes artworks purchased for the collection while Hartt was the curator of Washington University's art collection. He acquired artworks by many big name artists, including Jackson Pollack and Willem de Kooning. The purpose of the exhibition is to relate to a modern audience the importance of Hartt's contributions to the university's collections, with a specific focus on how he expanded the museum's holdings in American modernist artworks. This being the case, I was surprised to learn that in this exhibition of American artists they decided to throw a Greek into the mix. And not just any Greek, but The Greek. In 1952 Hartt purchased The Resurrection by Doménikos Theotokópoulos, better known to his Spanish contemporaries and modern art historians as El Greco. Try to say Doménikos Theotokópoulos three times fast and you'll understand why.

The Resurrection is a painting I have been lucky enough to spend some time with. I first saw it as the framed canvas rested on wooden blocks, leaning back against its future position on the wall. In this location I had to squat down to get my eyes to the appropriate viewing level. While standing, my focus was entirely on the figure of Christ and his billowing white banner and red cape. Once closer to the ground, the panicking soldiers strewn about the bottom of the composition dominated my attention. A whole series of men, wearing what appears to be ethereal layers of blue, red, or yellow hues meant to suggest garments, writhe and reach up for the ascending Christ as he transcends the earthly plane. Christ himself is naked, with the exception of a strategically placed fold in the waving banner in order to ensure the painting got a PG-13 rating. The only elements of costume that appear solid are two silver military helmets; one plumed piece of headgear whose wearer appears absorbed in thought (perhaps still asleep) and oblivious to the miraculous action which has struck his compatriots, and another non-plumed helmet that barely catches the eye as a falling flash between the torso and arm of the lower-most, central figure in yellow as he is knocked backwards. All figures depicted have exaggerated and elongated bodies and limbs, a stylistic approach to the human form that El Greco is famous for. The thighs and calves on Christ alone are enough to inspire the envy of the most obsessively dedicated body builder. It's the kind of painting you just keep staring at because all of that uneven, taunt, misshapen, and unrealistic imagery forms a picture that actually makes perfect sense in the space that it occupies and we want to be absorbed into that space because it is just so beautiful.


Once I had resurfaced from my absorption with the painting a certain question hit me right in the face: what is this figurative European painting doing in an exhibition of American abstract artworks? Seemingly, this 16th and 17th century artist has no connection to American vanguard artists of the mid-twentieth century. The only connection between the artworks appeared to be the man who collected them, Frederick Hartt. But a little research cleared up this question right away. El Greco was listed by many prominent 20th century artists as an essential source of inspiration, including Pablao Picasso and Jackson Pollack. So while El Gerco dates from a much earlier and more allegorical period his artworks captivated and closed the gap of centuries between himself and the modern artists featured in the exhibition. I feel the attraction of 20th century artists to this famous Greek was best explained by the English artist and art critic Roger Fry when he stated, "[El Greco is] an old master who is not merely modern, but actually appears a good many steps ahead of us, turning back to show us the way."

It might seem an odd placement at first, but a little more research into modern artists' and art historians' reactions to the cannon of El Greco makes his presence in this exhibition crucial. I will go so far as to say that he has had just as important an impact on modern art and abstraction as Paul Cézanne. I think Frederick Hartt knew this and it is one of the major reasons why he acquired the painting for Washington University.

Whew, what a revelation. It makes me thirsty. Ouzo anyone?

What do you think of El Greco and his impact on modern vanguard artists? Do you have a favorite El Greco that you would like to share and discuss?

Packing Video

A couple days ago my good friend Valerie sent me a link for this packing video produced by the Art Institute of Chicago. It's a long one, but worth the time. I am going to go ahead and count this one as my weekly reading assignment. You can watch the video on YouTube here. Enjoy!

Guest Post

Greetings All! This week I am a guest writer on Adrianne Russell's blog Cabinet of Curiosities. Please check it out and leave some feedback with the chance to win a free giveway. You can read my post here.

Harappan Mother Goddess

The current exhibition at the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts is In the Still Epiphany curated by artist Gedi Sibony. He selected numerous artworks from the collection of Joesph and Emily Pulitzer and designed their layout and cases in the galleries. His arrangement of these paintings, sculptures, and artifacts relates a story about a moment of clarity in a young woman's life. It's a very intriguing exhibition, and if you can visit please do.

Because the epiphany is that of a young woman, much of the art emits femininity, domesticity, and beauty. From Picasso's Woman in the Red Hat to Matisse's The Conservatory to a cleverly designed case of vessels and objects that exudes the Virgin Mary, women are the center of attention and absolutely everywhere. As they should be. But no object strikes me as so ultimately feminine as the terracotta Harappan Mother Goddess figurine. Seeing that she is a goddess that might be a bit unfair to all the other mortal women in the show. Nonetheless, she is my favorite so far.

The goddess figurine comes from the Indus Valley in Pakistan and dates to approximately 3000 BC. The exhibition photos are not available online yet, but you can see some similar terracotta figures here. It is believed, due to the emphasis of the female form, that these are fertility figures. The Pulitzer's little goddess has a bust that would make Pam Anderson jealous and she grasps her left breast with her left hand. On display she hangs out with an African humanoid fetish that foils the feminine and busty goddess with its stocky and ambiguous shape.

I think what I like the most about this object is her timelessness and staying power. As small as she is, which is about four inches tall, she stands out as powerful. It's a uniquely feminine strength that reigned for centuries before the uprising of the patriarchal pantheon, that makes a woman feel empowered rather than objectified by her own chest and bum. I love the idea of curvaceousness as something to be worshiped, as it represents a uniquely female capability, which is of course the ability to bring forth human life.

At the moment I have found the Harappan goddess the most intriguing, but the show has only been open for nine days. After some more exploring and contemplation I will surely find more to blog about since the range of the Pulitzer's collection is amazingly diverse.

Weekly Reading Assignment: Marking Objects

In an effort to make sure I remain current and maintain the information I learned as a museum studies student, I have decided to assign myself weekly readings in museum standards, best practices, ethics, and codes of conduct. I will utilize online resources, the vast majority of which will be from the American Association of Museums information center, and provide a link here on my blog. This way I can ensure that I accomplish a weekly goal and share it with others. Please feel free to read along with me each week. I am eager for suggestions (i.e., you read my source on a given topic and you are aware of another source and wish to suggest it here for myself and other readers) and commentary on the readings.

This week I read a section of the National Park Service's Museum Handbook which discusses the procedures for applying and removing object numbers, which you can read here. It lays out very clear and concise guidelines for how and where to number objects. It also lists specific archival products and tools which are very useful references. It is a very good read, especially if you want to refresh your memory and be prepared for unusual situations.  

Did you find the NPS object marking section helpful? Do you know of any other online resources concerning the application and removal of object numbers?

No Fishing

Yesterday evening my sister-in-law asked me what I know about silverfish. This was not a question concerning my amazing longline fishing skills, because I don't have any. She was asking about some insects she recently discovered inhabiting her basement. I happened to know exactly what she was talking about due to this insect's infamous repute in the museum and historic site realm. Thanks to their bad reputation they are mentioned a lot in museum studies courses and preservation workshops. Once during a course I was actually given a poster with many blown-up mugshots of the bugs that are considered the most common and destructive by preservationists. I had no more desire to hang this poster on my wall than I would a poster of third degree burns or Justin Bieber, but I do keep it safely tucked away in a drawer. One of the persona non gratas on this placard is the silverfish. Now let me tell you why and share some facts and links about this bug.

Silverfish are dreaded due to their diets, which consists of a lot of carbs and starches. Now in our obsessively weight conscious society this is bad enough, but these bugs don't get their polysaccharides from coffee and donuts they way we do. They prefer the carbohydrates and starches found in carpets, glue, clothes, and certain types of paper. They are capable of getting away with eating a lot because they are nocturnal and it would be a fluke to see any out during the day. Even so, they generally cause little to moderate damage unless a large infestation goes unchecked. I once visited a historic house where over half the original silk carpet of a period room had been overridden, eaten, and destroyed by silverfish. It went undetected for years because the insects were devouring it from the bottom up, starting with the glue and the woven substructure. The original carpet had to be removed and replaced with a less historically accurate carpet, which, as a precaution, was made of starch-free fibers in order to prevent another infestation. So in some rare cases the damage can be very bad. 

The name of the silverfish comes from their appearance. They have a long and thin silver body, though they are also sometimes red, brown, or black. They usually grow to up to a half inch or a full inch in length and their bodies have a flat, carrot-like shape. It is their silver coloring and the wiggling motion they make when they move that led to the silverfish comparison and their name. You can learn about the appearance and nature of the silverfish here.

The presence of silverfish in a home or storage area is a distinct sign of high humidity. They love damp and cool areas and in the house they are often found in basements, bathrooms, or kitchens. In a museum the best prevention is to maintain a low humidity level. When silverfish are detected there are a number of ways to eliminate the infestation. You can read more about silverfish and how to detect and remove them here. 

Silverfish may sound like the pretty, darting creatures that occupy and hypnotize from a household fish tank, and sometimes they are, but in the instance a silverfish is a carb-addicted pest that wiggles its way across the living room carpet, it's best to find a way to track and eliminate them immediately. Not only do they cause some damage, but they could also end up attracting other bugs into the building. I'll be sure to let my sister-in-law know. 

Have you ever dealt with an infestation of silverfish? What damage did they cause and how did you remove them?