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.