Yesterday Rody and I went on our field trips with our discussion groups.
I'm in Amada Cruz's discussion group, so I went to the Japanese American National Museum to see the Ikebana and Contemporary Art show and then went over to the Pasadena Museum of California Art in (you guessed it!) Pasadena to see Kori Newkirk's survey show and also to meet with the artist, himself.
Since the Metrolink was so unkind as to only have one train passing through Claremont between 8:30 and 11, I had to get onto the 8:48 train with Rody in order to get to downtown in time to meet with the group at 10:45. So one Metrolink trip, one toasted bagel and one coffee later, I set off from Union Station to JANM on foot. I thought it would take me 20 minutes to get there, but apparently it only takes 7 minutes, so I reached JANM at 10:15, only to find that the museum opens at 11. But the wait wasn't that bad, because Amada came at 10:30, and everyone else in the group arrived soon after her.
After hanging out in the lobby (and staring awkwardly at other people) for about 20-25 minutes, the curator of the Ikebana show, Karin Higa, came down and talked to us about JANM, it's mission, and what it's trying to accomplish. She then proceeded to take us through the show and she told us about the different schools of Ikebana, their characteristic styles, and why she chose the contemporary works that she did. In total, I really liked the show- the flower arrangements were beautiful and the art was great- but I'm not sure how I felt about the paper "design and architectural" element. I'm sure that all that paper is significant, but I didn't really see how, and I felt it a little aesthetically out of place with the show- but hey, can't like everything, now can I?
I also noticed that JANM had also provided for a cellphone tour, and I asked Karin Higa about it. I'm not happy with the fact that there was very little in terms of a gallery guide, that there were minimal wall labels, no tour guides for the show, and that there is no catalog yet (they're documenting the weekly flower arrangements before they make a catalog)- but I'm more satisfied with Karin's answer than Suzanne Isken's answer about the cell-phone thing. It turns out that Karin is very well aware of the fact that there is practically nothing on the wall-labels and nothing for the uneducated viewer to go by, and she said that she's rethinking the wall labels for the show because she realizes that people might not be taking away a lot from what they see (other than the seriously beautiful flower arrangements). But she also conceded that a cell phone tour is significantly cheaper for a museum, and since budgeting is tight, that's the option they have to go for.
After JANM, the group made a stop at Senor Fish's (tacos! burritos! quesdillas!) and then went to Pasadena to meet with Kori Newkirk at PMCA. To be honest, I'd never heard of Kori Newkirk, and I completely forgot to google him before the field trip, so I had no idea of what to expect. But it turns out that I like Newkirk's work (I love the pony bead curtains and I love the basketball sculptures). In a way, I'm really happy that I got to hear him talk about his work, because he seemed to approach his work in a way that I like to approach my own- since so much of it is personal, he's kind of cagey when it comes to talking about it. I'm sure it frustrates some people when contemporary artists don't really like to talk about their works in terms of what the work tries to say, but I have to admit that I'm fine when artists are reluctant to talk about their work because I'm kind of like that when it comes to my own art.
But yeah. In total, I'm satisfied with my sojourn into LA. The shows we saw were well-explained by people who were highly involved with creating them, and the shows themselves were really good- I just wish that the commute to LA wasn't so long and complicated.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Picture!
Hi everyone! Mary thought it would be nice if we had a photo of all of us up here, so here it is:
From left to right: Rody Lopez (Getty intern, Pomona '09), Zoe Larkins (Wilson intern, Scripps '09), Simrat Dugal (Getty intern, Scripps '10), Patricia Yu (Getty intern, Pomona '09)
From left to right: Rody Lopez (Getty intern, Pomona '09), Zoe Larkins (Wilson intern, Scripps '09), Simrat Dugal (Getty intern, Scripps '10), Patricia Yu (Getty intern, Pomona '09)
Monday, July 7, 2008
Who Says That Art Critics Are Intimidating?
On Thursday, July 3rd, Mary had two really well known art writers come into the office to meet with the 4 of us- Peter Plagens, an artist and the former art writer for Newsweek, and Laurie Fendrich, also an artist and a professor at Hofstra university.
We talked with them for about 2 hours (our meeting ran way into our lunch break, but I don't think anyone really cared- they were really awesome), and heard tons and tons of life stories and got a hefty bunch of advice from them about the art world. And through the entire 2 hours, I don't think any of us got the sense that we were talking to two self-involved, highly-strung art world people. If anything, I think all of us felt that we were talking to two of the most down-to-earth people that we've ever met (despite the fact that they are very important in the art world- I mean, Peter wrote for Newsweek!).
I don't want to pass their stories second hand through the blog- I'm sure they would lose their magic if passed on in writing- but Laurie told us stories about Clement Greenberg's visit to her studio, a dinner party where she and Peter got to roam free in the Met alone at night (with the museum guard in tow) and their time at this year's Idyllwild summer program as visiting artists. And among other things, Peter told us all about his days at Newsweek, and what it was like working under deadline and under editors (both competent and incompetent). Oh, and they also gave us links to some really helpful websites that we've put in the sidebar.
All in all, I think that meeting them was incredibly refereshing (I now have hope for the art world). And after speaking with them and Suzanne Muchnic, I'm pretty intrigued about the world of art writing- I think I might seriously start looking into it as a possible career option.
We talked with them for about 2 hours (our meeting ran way into our lunch break, but I don't think anyone really cared- they were really awesome), and heard tons and tons of life stories and got a hefty bunch of advice from them about the art world. And through the entire 2 hours, I don't think any of us got the sense that we were talking to two self-involved, highly-strung art world people. If anything, I think all of us felt that we were talking to two of the most down-to-earth people that we've ever met (despite the fact that they are very important in the art world- I mean, Peter wrote for Newsweek!).
I don't want to pass their stories second hand through the blog- I'm sure they would lose their magic if passed on in writing- but Laurie told us stories about Clement Greenberg's visit to her studio, a dinner party where she and Peter got to roam free in the Met alone at night (with the museum guard in tow) and their time at this year's Idyllwild summer program as visiting artists. And among other things, Peter told us all about his days at Newsweek, and what it was like working under deadline and under editors (both competent and incompetent). Oh, and they also gave us links to some really helpful websites that we've put in the sidebar.
All in all, I think that meeting them was incredibly refereshing (I now have hope for the art world). And after speaking with them and Suzanne Muchnic, I'm pretty intrigued about the world of art writing- I think I might seriously start looking into it as a possible career option.
Contemporary Art
So, on Monday, June 30, our supervisor took the four of us on a little field trip to the LA Times to meet an art writer, Suzanne Muchnic, and then we walked over to MOCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) to meet with the director of their education department, Suzanne Isken.
I am not particularly fond of contemporary art. Most of it elicits a noncommittal shrug, and an “Eh, I don’t get it.” Some I find visually unappealing and aesthetically displeasing. For some reason, contemporary art never “hooked” me, and my viewing of contemporary art has often left me feeling baffled, an outsider looking into an exclusive club whose members speak a dialect that sounds familiar at first, but is ultimately incomprehensible.
While touring the new Marlene Dumas exhibit at MOCA, I came to a conclusion about why the general public shies away from contemporary art:
Contemporary art museums are elitist. I’m sorry, but they really can be pretentious.
The Dumas exhibit came with absolutely no explanatory text; the wall labels contained the bare minimum of title, date, and credit line. This is an exhibit that features grotesque and disturbing imagery; expect to see malformed babies, dead bodies, and sexually explicit paintings. It would have been nice to have some frame of reference as to what the artist was trying to accomplish. A few labels contained a phone number that guests could call on their cell phones and hear a recorded message of Marlene speaking about her work or reciting a poem she wrote in conjunction with the painting. That’s it. Oh yeah, and there’s also a catalogue.
I asked Suzanne Isken why MOCA chose not to print out and put up Dumas’ poems, so that people who were visual learners, like me, could read them instead. Also, Dumas is known for basing her paintings off of other works and photographs, so why didn’t MOCA put up small images of the original photograph that inspired a particular Dumas painting? Isken responded by saying that MOCA is known for having very little on the walls and that visitors could always consult the catalogue or call the recorded cell phone message. After all, she says, This is L.A. Everyone has a cell phone.
And so we begin the elitism. So what if MOCA is known for its minimalist white walls? A small panel of black text on white walls would hardly distract from Dumas’ works. To even assume that everyone has a cell phone is elitist. I know plenty of people who do not have cell phones, and even if people did have one, why should they waste their minutes calling for information that should already be provided in the entrance fee they already paid? Or what if they had no reception? In any case, we tried dialing the number. It didn’t connect. After getting back to Scripps, we tried again. The call went through, but big surprise, the sound quality was wretched, and Dumas’ accent difficult to understand. While listening intently in a vain effort to decipher what she was saying, I thought, “There’s nothing wrong with my ears, and I’m having trouble understanding. What if a museum guest was hearing impaired?” In a day and age where institutions can be sued for not being handicapped accessible, MOCA chooses to put their information in a format that excludes the deaf? Whose brilliant idea was this? And now we come to the catalogue. Yes, it’s full of all the information one could possibly want about Dumas and her paintings. It is also a behemoth of a book, and not very many people are going to want to fork over $45 and then lug a 288 pg book with them as they go around the gallery.
Let me direct you to Dead Marilyn. It’s an oil painting of a woman’s face in repose, a woman who is presumably, according to the title, dead. The woman is also, apparently, Marilyn Monroe. Huh. Who’d have guessed that? Very few people, that’s who. The painting bears very little resemblance to sex icon Marilyn Monroe…which is exactly the point. The painting is based off a morgue photograph of Monroe, but I only know this because I read a gallery guide that our supervisor handed out the day before. The gallery itself tells the viewer nothing about the painting’s origins, so all it seems to be is an oil painting of a not-very-attractive woman. And how are viewers supposed to suddenly connect that to Marilyn Monroe?
I understand that MOCA wants the viewers to come to their own conclusions about artwork and to engage themselves with the paintings and not allow wall text to dictate their interpretations. But if the museum does not give guests some starting point, some frame of reference, most viewers will leave frustrated and vow to never waste another $10 on “ugly” art ever again. I’m trying to find the “meaning” in a work, but all I have are bare, blank walls that stare silently back at me. It’s as if the museum is saying, “You will never understand these works of art; you’re lucky we let you in to see them in the first place. That’s right silly mortal, behold the work of genius!”
I am not particularly fond of contemporary art. Most of it elicits a noncommittal shrug, and an “Eh, I don’t get it.” Some I find visually unappealing and aesthetically displeasing. For some reason, contemporary art never “hooked” me, and my viewing of contemporary art has often left me feeling baffled, an outsider looking into an exclusive club whose members speak a dialect that sounds familiar at first, but is ultimately incomprehensible.
While touring the new Marlene Dumas exhibit at MOCA, I came to a conclusion about why the general public shies away from contemporary art:
Contemporary art museums are elitist. I’m sorry, but they really can be pretentious.
The Dumas exhibit came with absolutely no explanatory text; the wall labels contained the bare minimum of title, date, and credit line. This is an exhibit that features grotesque and disturbing imagery; expect to see malformed babies, dead bodies, and sexually explicit paintings. It would have been nice to have some frame of reference as to what the artist was trying to accomplish. A few labels contained a phone number that guests could call on their cell phones and hear a recorded message of Marlene speaking about her work or reciting a poem she wrote in conjunction with the painting. That’s it. Oh yeah, and there’s also a catalogue.
I asked Suzanne Isken why MOCA chose not to print out and put up Dumas’ poems, so that people who were visual learners, like me, could read them instead. Also, Dumas is known for basing her paintings off of other works and photographs, so why didn’t MOCA put up small images of the original photograph that inspired a particular Dumas painting? Isken responded by saying that MOCA is known for having very little on the walls and that visitors could always consult the catalogue or call the recorded cell phone message. After all, she says, This is L.A. Everyone has a cell phone.
And so we begin the elitism. So what if MOCA is known for its minimalist white walls? A small panel of black text on white walls would hardly distract from Dumas’ works. To even assume that everyone has a cell phone is elitist. I know plenty of people who do not have cell phones, and even if people did have one, why should they waste their minutes calling for information that should already be provided in the entrance fee they already paid? Or what if they had no reception? In any case, we tried dialing the number. It didn’t connect. After getting back to Scripps, we tried again. The call went through, but big surprise, the sound quality was wretched, and Dumas’ accent difficult to understand. While listening intently in a vain effort to decipher what she was saying, I thought, “There’s nothing wrong with my ears, and I’m having trouble understanding. What if a museum guest was hearing impaired?” In a day and age where institutions can be sued for not being handicapped accessible, MOCA chooses to put their information in a format that excludes the deaf? Whose brilliant idea was this? And now we come to the catalogue. Yes, it’s full of all the information one could possibly want about Dumas and her paintings. It is also a behemoth of a book, and not very many people are going to want to fork over $45 and then lug a 288 pg book with them as they go around the gallery.
Let me direct you to Dead Marilyn. It’s an oil painting of a woman’s face in repose, a woman who is presumably, according to the title, dead. The woman is also, apparently, Marilyn Monroe. Huh. Who’d have guessed that? Very few people, that’s who. The painting bears very little resemblance to sex icon Marilyn Monroe…which is exactly the point. The painting is based off a morgue photograph of Monroe, but I only know this because I read a gallery guide that our supervisor handed out the day before. The gallery itself tells the viewer nothing about the painting’s origins, so all it seems to be is an oil painting of a not-very-attractive woman. And how are viewers supposed to suddenly connect that to Marilyn Monroe?
I understand that MOCA wants the viewers to come to their own conclusions about artwork and to engage themselves with the paintings and not allow wall text to dictate their interpretations. But if the museum does not give guests some starting point, some frame of reference, most viewers will leave frustrated and vow to never waste another $10 on “ugly” art ever again. I’m trying to find the “meaning” in a work, but all I have are bare, blank walls that stare silently back at me. It’s as if the museum is saying, “You will never understand these works of art; you’re lucky we let you in to see them in the first place. That’s right silly mortal, behold the work of genius!”
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