"30 Americans" at the Corcoran Gallery

Kehinde Wiley, "Sleep", 2008. Oil on canvas, 132 x 300 inches.

Courtesy of Rubell Family Collection, Miami.

It seems to me that fewer and fewer exhibitions have a profound effect on me -- I am not sure if that is a reflection on the quality of the exhibitions, or if my standards have changed over time. I really wish that I left more museums with that feeling of euphoria. It reminds me of knowing a secret, or discovering something new about yourself or society. I usually end up leaving feeling either neutral or disappointed. Maybe it takes more to "wow" me these days, which I hope is the case instead of lackluster exhibitions.

With 30 Americans" at the Corcoran, though, I was definitely "wowed". I can't stop thinking about the pieces in the exhibition, and I also can't stop raving about it. I have already highly recommended the exhibit to several AMUS students, and I only saw the show a few days ago!

Although entitled "30 Americans", the exhibit actually features 31 aritsts, which leads me to believe that there was a last-minute addition to the show...otherwise I can't think of why you would intentionally miscount the arists...plus, I haven't gotten a straight answer from the Corcoran staff in regards to the title. It is intentional to call them American artists, and not African-American artists. I think that this choice resonates with the works and themes presented. Racial, sexual, and historical identies are just a few of the themes explored through over 70 pieces. The mediums represented are as diverse as the artists: painting, sculpture, drawings, photographs, and videos are all exhibited.  

Xaviera Simmons, "One Day and Back Then (Standing)", 2007.

Color Photograph, 30 x 40 inches. Courtesy of Rubell Family Collection, Miami

One way that I gauge an exhibition is by how many "favorite" works you can pick out. While at the Corcoran for my internship on Wednesday, my supervisor Tiffany let me go take a look at the exhibition. When I got back, she wanted to hear which piece was my "favorite". I honestly couldn't pick just one -- there were too many pieces that were moving, interesting, or emotionally charged. The range of artists, styles, and themes makes the show incredibly interesting -- each gallery was almost a mini-exhibit in itself.

There were even a few "extras" that made the visitor experience even more interesting. The gallery is distributing postcards that read, "Say it loud, I'm ___ and I'm proud!" along with the exhibition title. I think that this is a gerat marketing tool -- you get a "souvenir" from the exhibition, but you can also send the postcard to friends, thereby encouraging them to visit as well. It also helps visitors create a connection by allowing you to fill in "what" you are.

They also have slips of paper that read, "Say it Loud: What is your reaction to 30 Americans at the Corcoran?" There is a table and chairs set up with writing utensils where visitors can reflect and share their opinions. Alongside the exterior of one of the last galleries, the wall is covered in black paper and is used as a bulletin board where you can post your reactions.

Although I am hesitant to ever "love" an exhibition, this one definitely came close. I am thrilled that the Corcoran is presenting an exhibition with this kind of depth, and I think that they did a phenomenal job. But...if I had to raise one issue, it would be that the entire exhibition comes from the Rubell Family Foundation. Drawing from one foundation is a tricky business, and there is always a risk that the exhibition is more than strictly mutually beneficial. In the Rubell's case, they rarely sell portions of their collection, so the chance that the exhibition is purely an economical ploy seems minimal. However, is the Corcoran setting a standard for future exhibitions?

"The Great American Hall of Wonders"

Charles Willson Peale, The Artist in His Museum, 1822, oil on canvas, 

Courtesy of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia. 

Gift of Mrs. Sarah Harrison (The Joseph Harrison, Jr. Collection)

Last week, our Museum Foundations class went to SAAM to meet with the director, Betsy Broun. While meeting with Dr. Broun, we had the opportunity to visit the current exhibit, "The Great American Hall of Wonders".

The exhibit theme seemed much too complex for the average visitor, though. The exhibition examined the 19th Century American belief that we are at our core an innovative people. I think that this mentality is still present today. We think that as Americans that we are naturally more creative, more self-reliant, harder workers, etc. But where did this idea come from?

SAAM examines this inventive energy in the 1800s through the exhibition of over 160 objects. Featuring objects ranging from paintings to patent models, the exhibit focused on six themes. To me, six themes is far too complex when considering that most visitors spend about 45 minutes in an exhibit and usually only take away three themes.

Also, I think that some of the themes were only evident after having Dr. Broun point them out. Although some -- such as the role of guns, which had its own room -- were easy to identify, a few were not quite as obvious. It was definitely an ambitious exhibit, and I am not so sure if all of its goals were achieved.

One of my classmates questioned Dr. Broun about the title of the exhibition. The title to me does not necessarily indicate what the exhibit is really about. I would have thought that the title would be something along the lines of "The American Spirit of Invention."

It definitely makes me wonder if visitors judge an exhibit by its title. Should the title entice? Should it provide a preview of the exhibit? Should it explain the theme? In this case, I think that the exhibition title did not accurately portray the exhibit, and if anything was detrimental to the theme of the exhibition.

LACMA Is Moving Mountains...Well, Boulders

Courtesy of The New York Times

The Los Angeles County Museum of Art is doing all it can to accommodate artist Michael Heizer's plan for "Levitated Mass", a project that has been in the planning stages with LACMA for over five years. Heizer has been contemplating the installation since the 1960s, however it has only recently been implemented with the help of LACMA. But to make this project happen, LACMA has been going to great ends.

Courtesy of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art

"Levitated Mass" will feature a 456-foot long slot into the earth, over which a giant granite boulder will be installed so as to appear to hover. The boulder was selected by Heizer from Stone Valley Quarry, located about 60-miles east of LACMA. It is 340-pounds of solid granite, and measures at 21-feet high. Selected for its natural beauty, the granite is black -and-white with rust speckled throughout its mass. 

Moving the boulder will require quite a bit of effort on the part of LACMA, however. Even though the quarry site is 60-miles away, the specialty rig required to move the boulder will need to take a route comprising of more than double the mileage. The rig, which is 295-feet long and 27-feet wide, will caterpillar its way at 6-miles per hour over the course of two weeks. The start date for this sojourn has been pushed back several times, currently slated to start on October 17th. 

I am eagerly anticipating the installation of the boulder, however. I am hoping that it will be in place by the Thanksgiving holiday, when I will be visiting Los Angeles. The installation enables visitors to walk under the boulder, which will hover 15-feet above their heads. 

I think that the use of LACMA's lush grounds as a space for public art is phenomenal. Possibly capitalizing on the success of Chris Burden's "Urban Light" installation, which has become a popular destination and photo op for tourists and residents alike, director Michael Govan seems to be actively pursuing a museum with a collection that exists outside of the walls, as well as inside. 

However, costing $10 million has certainly raised concerns from the public. Considering the economy, particularly in California where budget cuts have become the norm, an endeavor of this magnitude is something to be considered carefully. Govan defends the expense, and makes a good point that these funds are going back into the California economy. LACMA is putting people to work, both at the quarry, with construction at LACMA, operating the rig, etc. But even if you do understand how the funds will effect the local economy, the cost and efforts of LACMA to move a rock still seem slightly frivolous. 

All I can say is that I hope that this installation is worth it -- both in cost and effort. 

Painting Big at the Corcoran -- Big, but Good?

The Corcoran Gallery of Art's new series, "Now at the Corcoran", presents contemporary exhibitions -- hence the "Now" part. It displays the work of one or two artists at a time, with exhibitions focusing on issues central to the dynamic communities of Washington, D.C. "Now" is one of the most definitive ways in which the Corcoran encourages a dialogue with the contemporary art scene.

Although I am currently interning at the Corcoran and have visited the gallery several times over the past month, this past weekend was the first time I spent an extended amount of time in the exhibitions. Since I am usually running between classes and my internship, I typically only have a few moments to visit the exhibitions. Taking advantage of the Corcoran's free admission during the month of September, I was able to visit all of the exhibitions and really linger through the gallery.

Courtesy of the Corcoran Gallery of Art, www.corcoran.org

Through the end of the month, Chris Martin's exhibition, "Painting Big", is on display in three areas of the gallery. One of the first areas that visitors encounter is the gallery's central atrium. Here, three site-specific canvases by Martin are installed. The three canvases are huge -- 26 feet high and 17 feet across -- and create a room within a room. I did not like this installation -- it distracted me instead of enticed me. I am unsure if the artist created the pieces with the space truly in mind. One of the handouts for the exhibition states that this installation, "..forms a vibrant 'room' of color and pattern in the museum's central public space". Although the canvases do create this room, I think that it is too claustrophobic and the visitor is not able to fully view the canvases from this vantage point. I found it easier to view the canvases from the second floor balcony.

The three canvases are also intense -- hypnotic blacks and whites, dazzling glitter, and bright yellow and blue canvases are all arranged within close proximity of one another. Each canvas is individually intense. The exhibition title, "Painting Big", clearly refers to more than just the scale of the canvases. The same handout claims that the canvases in the atrium create a dialogue with the Beaux-Arts architecture it inhabits. "The patterns of curving forms echo the rhythm of the atrium's columns, and their height approaches its grandeur...they are aggressively not part of the background". I would maintain that they did not achieve that kind of echo with the building. The "aggression" they mention was certainly achieve, but I am not so sure that it was a good thing -- I found it instead distracting, if not a little jarring. It may have been intentional to introduce such intensity to the space, however I found it attempted to seriously dissuade me from visiting the rest of the exhibition.

With Martin's work, I tend to find his intent more interesting than the actual paintings. His engagement with landscapes -- both physical as well as mental -- is intriguing. The intentional cacophony of disjointed styles, colors, and shapes all create atmosphere and mood, but sometimes I find it more interesting to read about his works than to actually experience them. Often it is only when they are juxtaposed with one another that any kind of interest in generated. Individually, they can be a little one dimensional in my opinion.

If interest is achieved through exhibition, then, should these works be seen as individual pieces?

If it is through a disjointed perspective that an understanding or dialogue is created, than I suppose you could say that the entire exhibition is really about creating a harmony.

I started out thinking that the Martin exhibition was unsuccessful. But now I am wondering if it actually was successful -- I am still thinking about it. How can you judge an exhibition as successful? Is it the lasting impression on a visitor, regardless if positive or negative?

With this exhibition, I think that it is successful, in a backwards way. Kind of like the canvases themselves -- they are almost so wrong that it is right. The exhibition is the same way -- it is so disjointed that it actually makes sense.