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?

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

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.

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:

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.

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?

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?