Crabby about art

Every morning I get an email from Hyperallergic, a newsletter that covers the art scene (I recommend it to anybody who's interested in the wider world of mainstream art).  Today's included a story about a woman who stole a rock from a Yoko Ono exhibit at a museum in Toronto.

The exhibit consisted of a whole lot of river stones that were apparently arranged artfully on the floor.  Some of the stones were inscribed with messages such as "love yourself", written by Yoko herself.  The shtick of the exhibit, which the museum describes as "collaborative," is that viewers are supposed to pick up a stone while "concentrating on the word and letting go of their anger or fear."

Then, presumably after the anger and fear are gone, they're supposed  to put the stone back with the others.  But a woman picked one up and failed to put it back.  It's all on surveillance footage, and Toronto police are looking for the perp.

But I have mixed feelings about this story.

First off, you know I have a jaundiced view of these "collaborative" or "relational" art projects, having devoted too much of my own time to participating in one a couple of years ago.  The plan is to make people feel all warm and fuzzy by picking up the rock and thinking about loving themselves, or helping to mend a broken teacup (another part of the Ono show in Toronto).  According to Hyperallergic, this approach is "encouraging viewers to engage intimately with artworks."

Sometimes, I guess, such exhibits can make you think deeply or feel great emotion, but mostly I find them manipulative and cynical.  Geez, "love yourself" is kinda shallow, not to mention unoriginal, don't you think?

Second, if a show is all about encouraging people to engage intimately with the art, isn't it a bit hypocritical to call the cops if they engage a little bit too intimately?  What if in all sincerity this woman picked up the stone, tried hard to love herself, concentrated on it, concentrated on it, concentrated some more, but could never quite let go of her anger or fear?  And since it was almost closing time, thought she could take it home and keep concentrating?

But third, here's what really got me crabby about this story: the stone was described with a straight face as "valued at $17,500."  Hmmm.  Are they selling individual rocks in the gift shop for $17,500?  That would make that whole big pile on the floor (who knows how far it extends beyond the photo) worth -- what? -- millions?  In the next room was a setup where viewers were invited to use hammers and nails to stretch pieces of string to make "lines in space."  I wonder what a piece of string or a nail would be "valued at" if some viewer, in the spirit of collaboration and intimate engagement with art, decided to take one home?

I don't recommend that museums allow people to take home the art -- although there have been lots of "relational" projects in museums that do exactly that -- but for heaven's sake, if somebody takes home a rock, and you think it leaves a terrible gap in the pile on the floor, go get another rock.  It won't cost you anywhere near $17,500.

This sort of pretentiousness is what gives art a bad name among ordinary people.  What do you think?

Women / Impressionism 3

Everybody knows Mary Cassatt as the painter of adorable babies, but that was not her only skill.  The exhibit "Women Artists in the Age of Impressionism" includes lots of her work.

Yes, there were adorable babies.  You probably know the first one, but maybe not the second:

Children Playing on the Beach, 1884

Spring: Margot Standing in a Garden, 1900

Can you imagine putting that hat on a little girl to go out and play?  Obviously Margot wasn't encouraged to climb trees or turn somersaults.

Here are some adults:

The Reader, 1877

Although Cassatt's signature style is highly realistic, I was intrigued by two paintings that were much more gauzy.

Woman Standing, Holding a Fan, 1878-9

The focus here is on the dress rather than its wearer; in particular, the foofy lace on the left sleeve is almost luminous with back lighting.  I'd much rather have this painting in my living room than the one of the reader.

Autumn, Portrait of Lydia Cassatt, 1880

This portrait of the artist's sister is like two arts in one -- the face realistic, the patterned blanket almost abstract.  In fact, the loose brushwork of the blanket reminded me of Gerhard Richter's squeegee paintings!

Gerhard Richter, Abstraktes Bild, 1991

The show continues through May 13 at the Speed Museum in Louisville.

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Women / Impressionism 2

The curators' statements on the walls of the Speed Museum's exhibit "Women Artists in the Age of Impressionism" contained some language that I didn't love, to the effect that women of course had a special facility for painting domestic scenes.  Because of course men don't have breakfast tables or children, right?  Can you deduce the gender of the artist in comparing these two classic Impressionist scenes:

Well, be that as it may, there were some nice domestic scenes portrayed in the show. 

Harriet Backer, Big Brother Playing, 1890

Berthe Morisot, The Artist's Daughter, Julie, with her Nanny, 1884

Probably my favorite was this:

Marie Bracquemond, Under the Lamp, 1887

Probably the artist didn't intend it this way -- or did she? -- but to my eye the husband is a disembodied presence floating on the mist of the hot soup, ignored by the woman staring off into the wings.  Maybe he's just a disapproving spirit who hovers over her life and makes her feel under surveillance even if he's not there.  Or maybe he's really there, and she's just wondering how come he gets to drink all the wine.

Oh, and the top picture of women in a boat was by Claude Monet, the bottom picture was by Berthe Morisot.  Did you guess right?

Women / Impressionism 1

A fascinating exhibit at the Speed Art Museum in Louisville focuses on women artists who came to Paris during the second half of the 19th Century even though the deck was seriously stacked against them.  They couldn't attend the big art schools, had a hard time showing their work through the official Salon, couldn't draw nude models, couldn't go to certain public places without chaperones, were advised by their teachers to abandon art when they got married.  Nevertheless they came, and they learned to paint, and they made lovely paintings.

I was impressed by how many of them had success despite these obstacles.  Many had work eventually accepted to the Salon, a few were given honors such as the Legion of Honor.  Of course the praise was grudging -- lots of critics' remarks quoted on the wall signs to the effect of "it's astounding that a woman painted this!!"

Marie Bashkirtseff, In the Studio, 1881

The Académie Julian was one of a few small art schools that admitted women.  Originally it allowed male and female students to work in the same room from a nude model (gasp!) but after too many gasps had to have separate studios for men and women.  Here's the women's studio; Marie, who was from Ukraine, is center front with black dress and big palette.

I was unfamiliar with most of the artists in the Speed show; many of them returned to their native countries after studying in Paris and did not have a chance to make names for themselves internationally even if they were well-regarded at home.  I had heard of only four: Berthe Morisot, Mary Cassatt, Rosa Bonheur and Paula Modersohn-Becker.

More tomorrow, with lots of pictures.  Meanwhile, click on the link at the top of this post and you can watch a slide show of many of the paintings from the show, which is up through May 13.

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