“I am working as one possessed” - Vincent van Gogh

Vincen van Gogh, Tree-Roots, Auvers-sur-Oise, July 1890.  Oil on canvas, 50 x 100 cm.

As this week is Thanksgiving, I thought it would only be appropriate to write about something I am thankful for – my run in with Vincent van Gogh. A few weeks ago I wrote about van Gogh and briefly mentioned my adoration of him. Let me expand on that: As I mentioned, it was during a family trip to Amsterdam the summer before my Junior year of high school that I fell in love. We had visited many museums, but it was the Van Gogh Museum which made me fall in love with art; and it was this museum coupled with the Anne Frank Museum which spurred my love for museums. I cannot recall what exactly it was about van Gogh which hooked me; but his subjects, color, and paint application mesmerized me and I stared at the artwork for hours. Even in his earlier work, van Gogh's choppy, thick brushstrokes manage to bring so much life and movement into his paintings. Later, his painting style coupled with his use of color really makes for amazing, interesting to look at paintings that treat the eye with their surprises.

Van Gogh's story is also so interesting. He shared his name with his older brother who died in infancy before our Vincent was born which seems somewhat of an ominous start. Van Gogh was subject to fits of passions – he threw himself in to becoming an art dealer, become wildly religious and left the art company he was working for to become a clergyman. This, too, failed, and on the advice of his brother, Theo, he began to paint. (Thank you, Theo!)

I shall confess that my dream job (however far out of my reach it might seem) would be to work at the Van Gogh Museum in some capacity. It would be heaven to be surrounded by his beautiful creations every day. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Foto Week DC

Last Friday I visited the Edison Place Gallery, which is a stones throw away from the National Portrait Gallery and the Smithsonian American Art Museum. The gallery was participating in Foto Week DC sponsored by National Geographic and featured works by two amazing photographers – J. Baylor Roberts and B. Anthony Stewart. Their work was displayed in one large room in the gallery but separated by a small wall in the middle. The handful of their work displayed was in black and white and from the first half of the 20^th century.

J. Baylor Roberts was a photographer in the marines during World War I and then became involved with National Geographic. Three photographs of his really stud out for me. The first was A Date Night at the Drive-In, Route 1, Alexandria, Virginia from 1941. It is a beautiful picture with a scene of a football game playing on the screen in the background and a dozen or so sleek, identical black cars in the foreground. The second, Looking Through a Lens, Japan (c. 1950), shows a really neat and 'new' perspective; in the photograph a woman holds up a small magnifying lens which blocks her face, but in the actual magnifying glass one can see her whole face. The last photograph to stand out for me was Electro-Chemical Plant Furnace, Portland, Oregon (1942), this was not because I found it a breathtakingly amazing picture but because it was so underwhelming and not aesthetically pleasing or interesting. To make matters worse, it was given the position of the main photograph!

In contrast to this less-than-awe-some photograph, the main picture for B. Anthony Stewart's section was really cool. It was entitled Coal Miner, Omar, West Virginia (1938) and featured a full-on close-up shot of a man who had just come out of the mine. The miner was still wearing his hard hat with the lantern attached and was absolutely covered in coal dust; so much so that it had settled into every wrinkle of his face and highlighted his graying beard. His eyes, which are staring fully at the camera (and thus at the viewer) watery and full of emotion. This photograph is definitely the most amazing picture the gallery had of Stewart's and it more than deserved its place in the spotlight.

B. Anthony Stewart, Coal Miner, Omar, West Virginia (1938)

Both of these men have works from all over, which demonstrate that a photojournalist (like all types of journalists) must be willing to follow the story where ever it may be. The simple, no frills layout of the exhibition really allowed for the photographs themselves to speak and be admired for the great works that they are.  

The Story of Virginia at the Virginia Historical Society

On my way to see the Virginia Museum of Fine Art's Mocha Dick exhibit this past weekend I walked past the Virginia Historical Society, which is located right next door to the VMFA, and said “Oh, why not?”

Due to its position right next to the more inviting building of the VMFA, I was honestly pleasantly surprised at the amount of visitors the VHS had. I thought that if, after all my many trip to Richmond, it had taken me more than a year to visit the VHS, the museum would be devoid of people. Not only were there a lot of visitors, but they also spanned a wide range of ages and all seemed interested and happy to be there.

After a lackluster reception (read: the person sitting at the front desk did not even acknowledge my existence...) I decided to tour the Story of Virginia, an American Experience exhibit, which spanned history from the earliest human settlers in the region up to the present day – about 16,000 years of history! The exhibition was broken into four different chronological sections: Early Virginia to 1775, 1775 to 1860, 1861 to 1900, and 1900 to present day.

The exhibition found ways to include visitor of all ages with interesting wall texts, individual peoples' accounts of events, and really neat artifacts – from an original log cabin and animal fur pelts one was able to stroke in the Early Virginia to 1775 section, to a Conestoga Wagon, dress-up clothes, and period furniture pieces in the 1775 to 1869 section, to Civil War relics, daguerreotypes, a real late 19^th century streetcar, and a copper liquor still in the 1861 to 1900 section, to a lunch counter (to represent the lunch counter sit-ins in the 1960's), a Klu Klux Klan outfit, and a wall full of Time Magazine covers with famous Virginians on the cover. There were also countless videos and interactive screens and peppered throughout the exhibition one could find plaques which asked questions (such as “True or False: George Washington had wooden teeth?”) which one could then flip the over to find the answer to the question (“False: they were made from gold, ivory, lead, and human and animal teeth.”).

I noticed that the exhibition did not really make a big deal about the few pieces of artwork in its possession. I figured that this was because the museum was about history and not at all about art. This was made clear when I spotted a painting of Pocahontas in the first section of the exhibition. “Now, this painting looks very familiar,” I thought. And then it dawned on me: it is a copy of the very painting that, upon visiting the National Portrait Gallery, we were shown and told that it was the first acquisition of the NPG! More than that, there was another modern day copy of the same painting in which Pocahontas was rendered in (perhaps) a more accurate likeness – darker hair, tanner skin, etc.

It follows then, that while art museums desire authentic and original artwork, historical museums or societies are just as happy with a likeness of a piece; such as the Pocahontas painting, or the mock lunch counter from a sit-in (the Greensboro Lunch Counter is on display at the National Natural History Museum). This, I feel, is just; one does not go to the National Gallery of Art expecting to see Dorothy's ruby red slippers, no, one goes to the National Natural History Museum; where, likewise, one does not expect to see a beautiful original van Gogh.

The Virginia Historical Society should definitely expect another visit from me.  It fed my love of history and conveyed its complex story through personal stories of Virginians throughout time and amazing, intriguing artifacts.

"I dream of painting and then I paint my dream." - Vincent Van Gogh

Starry Night

June 1889, Oil on Canvas, 28 3/8 x 36 1/8 in.

                I fully realized my passion for art during a family trip to Europe.  While in Amsterdam we visited The Van Gogh Museum; I walked through the doors and BOOM! I was head-over-heels in love.  It is only right, then, that I mention two articles I read recently pertaining to my favorite artist. 

Self-Portrait

September 1889, Oil on Canvas, 25 5/8 x 21 3/8 in.

                The first article, “The Stranger,” from Time Magazine is a short review of a new biographical book of Vincent van Gogh by Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith called The Life.  My interest in this article led me to another book review from The New York Times entitled “The Persona and the Palette.”  Both articles mention that the book brings to light a new theory about his death; perhaps it was not suicide but an accidental shooting by a boy in town who owned a faulty gun and liked to tease van Gogh; why else would the doctor say van Gogh was shot from a distance?  Why would van Gogh tell the police “Don’t accuse anyone else.”  However, the book does not center on this theory but rather deals with tumultuous van Gogh’s life and art.  During the writing of their book the authors gathered a plethora of information; more than they were able to fit into the book.  The left out information was still interesting and pertinent so they created a companion website (http://vangoghbiography.com/mission) which includes notes, sources, biographies of people mentioned in the book, photographs, family trees, artwork, etc.  This situation (the book with the companion website) reminds me of an exhibition and an exhibition catalogue – where, no matter how much information and artwork, a curator must decide what artwork works the best to create a cohesive exhibition and the curator can then include other extraneous information in the catalogue.  I also see a link between the book with its website and the Luce Center at SAAM – where all kinds of artwork is on display and if you want to know more about a particular piece there are computers scattered around the space which can provide you with more information.

Still Life: Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers

January 1889, Oil on Canvas, 36 5/8 x 28 3/4 in.

                The second article (found tacked to the bulletin board outside of the Luce Conservation Center), “Why van Gogh is Entering his Brown Period” by The Independent discusses the reasons why the yellows in van Gogh’s paintings are gradually turning brown.  After sample analysis was performed on both samples from van Gogh's paintings and samples from historic paint tubes it was discovered that the chrome yellow pigment van Gogh used to make his sunflowers vibrant is affected by sunlight; which gradually turns brown over time.   Scientists believe that van Gogh’s technique of mixing white paint with his chrome yellow may have acted as a catalyst to the paint changing color.  This finding, I believe, must affect curatorial practices on the exhibition of paintings by van Gogh with this chrome yellow pigment.  Hopefully scientists will be able to find a way to reverse the pigment’s reaction or at least stop the process from going any further.  If not, how will exhibition techniques for these paintings change?  How will curators react?

Hands Off!

            During my internship yesterday a group of first years from George Washington University came to visit the conservation labs.  Their visit brought up a museum issue which I had previously not given much thought to – museum visitors touching the artwork.  Perhaps the reason I had never considered this issue is because I would never touch the artwork unless prompted!

            We took the group out into the Modern and Contemporary art gallery to look at two pieces which had experienced museum visitor ‘vandalism.’  The first work, “Sollie 17” (1979-1980) by husband and wife team, Edward Kienholz and Nancy Reddin Kienholz, is a life-sized scene of a hallway within a seedy, run-down hotel.  The door to room number 17 is cracked open and viewers are allowed to glimpse at the sorry life of an old man.  Outside the door is a pay phone with numbers and doodles scribbled on the wall next to it – all done by the artists.  After its installation conservators began to notice that visitors were adding their own graffiti – admittedly noticed only after one vandal dated their signature 2007.  The conservators kept a daily record of the artwork in order to establish which was and was not the artists’ work and how to remedy this problem.  They finally decided to painstakingly remove the new graffiti and place Plexiglas over the façade of the piece to deter people from making their mark.

            The second work we visited was “Woman Eating” (1971) by Duane Hanson.  Hanson crafted life-sized people from fiberglass and polyester (and wigs, old clothes, and other props).  This Hanson work features a sad looking, overweight woman sitting alone at a table eating a sundae.  The original piece featured a TV Guide and Enquirer magazine from the 1970’s but visitors turned vandals ripped the cover and other pages from the TV Guide and stole the original Enquirer – forcing the museum to replace it with an Enquirer from 2007 touting trouble between Oprah and Stedman caused by Obama!  There had also been a plastic cup on the table which had been moved and banged around so much that it cracked and had to be discarded.  And once a generous museum patron added a nice gooey caramel candy treat to the top of the sundae which the conservation lab had to carefully scrape off.  The museum tried a few options to deter the public from touching this piece.  The point of Hanson’s artwork is to fool the visitor into believing that this is a real person, so the museum tried ways in which this intent was not hindered.  First they used a special wax to affix all of the items on the table top to the table.  This was not enough.  Then they placed strips of sandpaper-like tape in a square around the piece – so people could feel the barrier when they tried to step closer.  Not enough.  Then they added a notice on the floor to the effect of “Please don’t touch.  Touching will harm the artwork.”  Still didn’t work!  So, finally they had to put up a low barrier which has finally helped people to get the message.

            Again, I was surprised that this was even an issue!  However, I suppose not everyone has an appreciation of or respect for art which would deter them from vandalizing works.  I also did not realize that this was solely a conservation issue and not also a curatorial issue – but maybe these departments did work hand-in-hand with these decisions.  Now that I know about this issue I am interested to see what other museums have had problems and how they have dealt with them.

America's Presidents

            Today as I was walking back to my internship in the conservation department in SAAM I took a detour through America’s Presidents, a permanent exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery.  Upon walking into the space one is greeted by an introductory plaque stating that this is the nation’s only complete collection of presidential portraits outside of the white house; quite impressive!  There are a few George Washingtons, a Chuck Close Bill Clinton, and even Franklin Pierce – does anyone even know who that is?! – was represented.

            The Presidents are grouped somewhat chronologically.  One is greeted by George (Washington), asked to sit down and watch a few inaugural addresses and presidential speeches, and then shown to the door by George (Bush, Jr.).  Yes, that is correct: a “complete collection” of presidential portraits does not even include the current president!  I was baffled by not being able to find the portrait of “my man Barry-O” (as my dad fondly refers to him) and I asked the guard, “So, where’s Obama?”  Funnily enough, a president is only afforded a place in the hall of remembrance after his term has been completed.  I am still trying to figure out that logic, especially since I am sure the NPG owns a portrait of Obama by Shepard Fairey. 

            Lack of an Obama portrait aside, the exhibition was quite nicely laid out.  Large dividing walls had been built in various portions of the room and were used to showcase larger portraits; such as a full sized portrait of Jimmy Carter standing by his desk in the oval office.  As I vaguely mentioned earlier, the curator has even created a den-like area for people to sit on couches and watch a selection of presidential speeches on an old television.  There is also an interactive radio where one can push a button and listen to certain presidents. 

            On our visit to the NPG last week, we were informed that in its artwork labels, the museum always introduces the sitter(s) first.  One must almost search for the name of the artist; always nestled away at the bottom of the label.  Still fixated on our classes talk about labels, I noticed that every presidential portrait had its own wall text and was interested to see what information they provided – Would it all be historical?  Would it provide any information about the actual painting or artist?  Unsurprisingly, the labels all introduced the president first, next described the president and his achievements or reputation, and then addressed the picture and artist.  The labels ask no questions of the viewer; they simply make their statements (good or bad; flattering or scathing) and move on. 

These labels are not necessarily the educational, discussion promoting labels we have been discussing in class.  Perhaps, with portraits of such famous and historical men, a label can only be informative and not wildly thought provoking.

Let the work do its work!

I have (finally) begun my internship at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in their Lunder Conservation department – an amazing space!  To get to the Lunder Conservation Center one must go all the way up the main stairs to a gallery space which features large sculptures and beautiful stain glass windows (and also a café area – gasp!  How dare they!).  Then one must still climb two more flights of stairs and walk through the open storage ‘gallery’ of the Luce Foundation Center; there at the end of it all is the conservation department.  Instead of walls between it and the museum, the conservation center has glass windows; allowing visitors to watch conservation in action!

Anyway, back to that gallery space.  Tomorrow my museum foundations class is going to the Smithsonian American Art Museum; more specifically, to the Luce Foundation Center.  The website for the center boasts that around 3,500 works of art from their permanent collection are on display – hung wildly on the pegboards and shoved in behind the glass cases.  Yes, ok, having the ability to display three and a half thousand works of art on top of all the other exhibitions in the museum is fantastic.  Yet, did I mention that these works are part of the permanent collection?  Most are wonderful works of art.  Why were they marginalized to begin with?

Is it really necessary to call this space an “open art storage space?”  All of the works are identified for the viewer and if you thought that, refreshingly, the curator decided to let the art speak for itself, think again.  Positioned throughout the space are computers which have copious amounts of information about every work on display, biographies of the artists, audio interviews, images, and videos.  Also, on most of the walls of the gallery are prompts for audio guide tours.  Ok, ok, so, relegating the overwhelming amount of information to the optional audio guides and optional computer use is a big step.  It does partially allow for the visitor to mold their own experience and for the artwork to speak for itself.

Or does it?  Also peppered throughout the display cases are wall texts.  Some innocently ask questions like: “Why is this gap here?”  “What belongs in this space?”  My favorite question, nestled amongst paintings of solitary women suggestively asks: “Are all these women sad?”  Honestly?  Even in the “first visible art storage and study center in Washington, D.C.” (so says the website) museum visitors cannot escape curatorial prodding and hand-holding. 

Do not get me wrong; I really do believe that the Luce Center is a fantastic, innovative space.  It allows the visitor to feel that they are getting a backstage tour of the museum and it displays works which otherwise would be hidden away.  I just beg: get rid of the leading wall texts which plant the curator’s views into the visitor’s head.  Let the work do its work.

In Focus (Galleries)

            This past weekend I visited the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond, Virginia.  The museum boasts an impressive permanent collection as well as a few special exhibitions.  One really great aspect of the museum is that it contains several focus galleries; one gallery is situated off of the main atrium of the museum and the other two are within the European and Mid to Late Twentieth Century sections.  Focus galleries are great ways for people, perhaps somewhat unfamiliar with museums and artwork, to have an initial, non-overwhelming, introduction to art. 

Jean Schlumberger Focus Gallery

The initial focus gallery off of the atrium is comprised of two rooms and presently contains artwork from a singular artist, Jean Schlumberger.  Schlumberger began his career designing costume jewelry for Elsa Schiaparelli and then transitioned into making “objets de lux” – real jewelry and decorative objects, the latter of which are on display at the VMFA.  The second focus gallery within the Mid to Late Twentieth Century section contains an exhibition entitled, “Apocalypse: Monumental Paintings of the 1980’s” and is a large room with three massive canvases on each wall.  This exhibition is dedicated to three artists emerging in aftermath of the Vietnam War and the Watergate scandal.  These two exhibitions demonstrate that focus galleries can either be used to provide an introduction to a singular artist and a facet of his or her work or to a certain style or era of art in which a few artists are emphasized.

Objets de Lux by Jean Schlumberger

The benefit and attraction of having a focus gallery in a museum is quite evident.  A focus gallery contains only a few pieces of artwork, which allows for visitors to fully digest and appreciate the work that they are seeing. Having a focus gallery also addresses Adam Gopnik’s claim in Mindful Museum that visitors only have a certain amount of energy to expend on viewing artwork.  Walking into a room with only a couple of pieces of artwork on view psychologically indicates to a visitor that it is unnecessary to rush through and merely glace at each work; that there is time to take in each work individually.  A focus gallery is also ideal for someone who only has a certain amount of time to spend at the museum.  Instead of running though trying to hit all the big names, a visitor is able to leisurely stroll though a room filled with either a carefully selected portion of the museum’s permanent collection or a presentation of newly acquired artwork and is still afforded a fulfilling museum experience. 

In Case of World War III

            The Nineteen Seventies was a time of turmoil for America – the Vietnam War, the Iran hostage crisis.  It was during this time that Andrew Robinson, curator of prints, watercolors, drawings, and rare illustrated books at the National Gallery in Washington, DC was approached by his boss and asked to fill a container with the works in his collection that had the highest value.  This was all in preparation for, perhaps, World War III.  Robinson still has a “top-priority” list of 74 works which fit into 7 boxes – only 27% of the works on the list today are what were in the original container.  It seems that Robinson is not the only curator who plans for emergencies; Brent Glass, the outgoing director of the National Museum of American History, admits that his curators also have these types of lists.

So, this begs the question: what are the qualifications for a work to receive top honors and get placed in the ‘to be saved’ box?  The merit system Robinson and his team use is as follows:

1)      Aesthetic – is this work well made in both concept and execution?

2)      Historic – does this piece fully explain when it was made and by whom?

3)      “Power” – does this work have a pronounced psychological impact? 

The criteria of power seems to be synonymous with resonance so, then, should wonder not be a fourth criteria?  And what about quality?

4)      Wonder - does this object have the power to stop a view in his or her tracks? Does it command attention? 

5)      Quality – is this the best example of this artists/genre’s work?

Maybe, like a dinner menu, fewer criteria make it easier for a curator to choose what should be included in the box.  What is of note is that Robinson does not rely on the art market to decide what should and should not have a spot in his boxes.  Instead, this list helps Robinson discover the value of the works in his collection. 

It had never occurred to me that curators would make this type of preparations.  However, now that it has been brought to my attention it seems quite logical.  I would be interested to know the criteria of Brent Glass’ curators’ lists and also if other curators have similar lists for, perhaps not World War III, but at least for a catastrophe – fire, natural disaster, etc.

http://www.courier-journal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2011308210014

Out with the old, in with the new

Once a year I stand in front of my closet and steel myself for the task of assessing every item of clothing’s usefulness in my current wardrobe.  Sometimes when I place things in the “discard” pile it comes with hesitation: “surely I can find somewhere to wear this top!”  However, once the pile of clothes has been dropped off at Goodwill I am never regretful and I know that this purge has made room for new purchases.

Much like my own personal ‘spring cleaning,’ museums must also assess their collections.  More often than not this assessment of a museum’s collection is superficial; limited only to the exhibitions on display.  Around ninety percent of a museum’s collection is housed in storage and will never be displayed again.  

An article on BBC News introduces Jeremy Knight, curator of the Horsham Museum in Sussex, England.  Over the years Knight has been pruning his museum’s collection, both on display and in storage, in order to revamp and expand its displays.  As a result of Knight’s efforts, six new galleries were created from old store rooms.  He says, “I take the view that objects have to work and earn their living by making them relevant to the people and showing the people the past through those objects.”  Objects sitting neglected in storage are neither seen nor enjoyed by anyone.  By allowing these objects to be sold not only benefits the museum but also adds to the life and worth of the object. 

Just as the culling of my wardrobe creates an internal struggle; the reevaluation of a museum’s collection can sometimes cause a public and professional outcry.  Fear over the public’s reaction can cause a museum to forgo selling its collection in storage and, thus, hinder the strength of its collection on display.  It is essential, then, that a museum has open communication with the public about its decision to reassess its collection and share with them how they will use the profits.