The "Collection Museum" Complete* List

The small "collection museum" list that I started in an earlier post has exploded into quite a large compilation, thanks to the comments from my readers! Per request, I've compiled this list into a separate post. This new list goes outside the chronological parameters that I used in the previous post, too. I've also added a two more museums: the Museé Nissim de Camondo (Paris) and Hillwood (Washington DC). As of the past week, Hillwood has taken a large role into my personal research project, since it was founded by female collector Marjorie Merriweather Post.

Walter Benjamin, when writing about collection, said that there was "a profound enchantment" in which "the thrill of acquisition" casts "a magic circle" around objects.¹ Hopefully this list will provide helpful suggestions for those who like to experience such "profound enchantment" and magic in person.

The list is organized chronologically from when the museum was founded and/or opened for public view. I am defining "collection museum" as a preserved art collection amassed by a private collector, which is now on view for the public. Often, these collection museums are located in what was once the private house and/or residence of the collector.

*If you know of any other collection museums to add to this list, please let me know! I'll try to keep this list as complete as possible.

Enjoy!

1 Anne Higonnet, A Museum of One's Own: Private Collecting, Public Gift (New York: Periscope Publishing, Ltd., 2009), xviii.

"COLLECTION" MUSEUMS

19th century

• 1817: National Brukenthal Museum (Sibiu, Romania). Collection of Baron Samuel von Brukenthal, which was amassed during the 18th century. Von Brukenthal stipulated in his will (which probably was written sometime around 1803, the year that Van Brukenthal died) how his collection should be treated after his death. He ordered that when the last male heir in his line of succession should die, his Late Baroque palace presenting his collections should be open to the public. These events took place in 1817. The museum was nationalized in 1948. A more detailed history of the museum is found here.
• 1837: John Soane Museum (London). As mentioned here, the collection functioned as a museum and academy in the beginning of the 19th century. Soane was serving as a Professor of Architecture at the Royal Academy, and he allowed students to come and study his collection. Soane negotiated an Act of Parliament in 1833 to preserve the museum, and in that act was put into force when Soane died in 1837. 
• 1883: The Corsini Gallery (Rome). Collection was formed in the 18th century by the Corsini family, notably Cardinal Lorenzo Corsini (who became Pope Clement XII). Palace was sold to the Italian state in 1883 and comprised the basis for the National Gallery of Art. Official website says that "only recently" was the collection moved back to its original site at the Corsini palace.
• 1897: The Wallace Collection (London). The collection was mainly amassed by Richard Seymoure-Conway, who bequeathed the collection to his illigetimate son, Sir Richard Wallace. Collection is displayed in the Hertford House, the main London townhouse of Sir Richard Wallace. The collection was bequeathed to the British nation in 1897 by Lady Wallace (Julie-Amélie-Charlotte Castelnau), wife of Sir Richard Wallace.
• 1898: Musée Condé in the Château de Chantilly (near Paris). Bequeathed by the Duc d'Aumale to the Institut of France in 1897. The museum opened to the public in 1898. (Note: This museum is not the collection of one private collector, but a collection that was amassed over time by the Montmorency and Condé families. Museum also has a collection once owned by Caroline Murat, the sister of Napoleon.) 

1901 - 1920

• 1903: The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum (Boston, Massachusetts). Collection of Isabella Stewart Gardner. The museum ("Fenway Court") also served as Isabella's residence. Construction begun in 1899, opened to the public on Near Year's Day, 1903.
• 1903: The Borghese Gallery (Rome). This gallery was the original conception and collection of Cardinal Scipione Borghese (reign 1605-1621). Housed in the former Borghese country house, this collection contains works by Caravaggio and Bernini, among others. The art collection and country house were acquired by the Italian state in 1902. The remaining parts of the villa (including parks and open-air sculptures) were ceded by the Italian state to the municipality of Rome in 1903. More information about the museum is found here.
• 1913: Jacquemart-André Museum (Paris). Collection of André and Nélie Jacquemart. Nélie Jacquemart was a well known society painter. In accordance with her husband's wishes, Nélie bequeathed the mansion and collection to the Institut de France. Museum opened in 1913.
• 1920: The Hallwyl Museum (Stockholm). Primarily the collection of Countess Wilhelmina von Hallwyl. Museum is located in the Hallwyl House, which served as the private residence for Count and Countess van Hallwyl. Collection was donated to the state in 1920.

 1921 - 1940

• 1921: The Phillips Collection (Washington, DC). Collection of Duncan Phillips. Museum building was once Phillip's residence. Founded 1921.
• 1921: Sinebrychoff Art Museum (Helsinki, Finland). Collection of Paul Sinebrychoff. Collection donated to the state in 1921. The Sinebrychoff private residence (the current location of the museum) was bequeathed to the state in 1975. 
• 1922: The Barnes Foundation (originally located in Merion, Pennsylvania). Collection of Albert C. Barnes. Founded in 1922. I'm especially distraught over this museum, since the collection is currently being moved to a new location in Philadelphia. If you want to learn more about the situation involving the displacement of the Barnes Foundation, I'd recommend that you see the documentary The Art of the Steal.
• 1926: Freer Gallery of Art (Washington, DC). Collection of Charles Lang Freer. Construction begun in 1916, but gallery completion was delayed because of WWI. Gallery opened in 1926.
• 1926: Benaki Museum (Athens). Collections of Antonis Benakis. Founded in 1926.
• 1927: The Spada Gallery (Rome). Located in the Palazzo Spada, this collection includes 16th and 17th century paintings. The collection was largely amassed by Cardinal Bernardino Spada and his nephew, Virgilio Spada. Bernardino's grandson, Fabrizio Spada, also added to the collection. Cardinal Spada had the Renaissance palace remodeled by Borromini in the 17th century. The Palazzo was purchased by the Italian state in 1927.
• 1928: The Huntington Art Gallery (Pasadena, CA). Collection of Henry E. Huntington. Museum building was once Huntington's residence. Opened in 1928.
• 1932: The Courtauld Gallery (London). Gallery is part of the Courtauld Institute of Art. The gallery's art collection originally contained art that belonged to Samuel Courtauld, the founder of the Institute. Courtauld's collection contained mostly French Impressionist and Post-Impressionist works. Courtauld made a bequest to the Institute in 1948. The gallery collection has expanded to include works from several private collections, including the collection of Roger Fry (gallery received bequest following the art critic's death in 1934).
• 1935: Museé Nissim de Camondo (Paris). Collection of banker Moïse de Camondo. The museum is located in a mansion that was designed after the Petit Trianon in Versailles. Collection includes decorative arts, busts by Houdon, portraits by Elisabeth Vigée Lebrun, landscapes by Guardi and hunting scenes by Oudry.
• 1935: Musée Marmottan Monet (Paris). Originally the collection of Paul Marmottan (which was partially inherited from his father, Christophe Edmond Kellermann, Duke of Valmy). Museum was bequeathed to the Académie des Beaux Arts. The museum location originally served as the hunting lodge for Christophe Edmond Kellermann and later the home of Paul Marmottan. The Academy opened the museum in 1935. Museum collection was expanded with a gift in 1957 (Impressionist collection once owned by Doctor Georges de Bellio) and in 1966 (the personal collection of Claude Monet, bequeathed by Monet's son Michel Monet). Museum also houses a collection of illuminated manuscripts once owned by Daniel Wildenstein (who died in 2001).
• 1935: The Frick Collection (New York City). Collection of  Henry Clay Frick. Museum is housed in the former home of Henry Clay Frick. Museum opened to the public in 1935.
• 1936: The John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art (Sarasota, Florida). Collection of John and Mable Ringling. Museum functioned as the Ringling family's private residence. Art collection, mansion, and estate were bequeathed to the state of Florida in 1936, at the death of John Ringling. This museum boasts an eclectic Baroque collection, among other things.
• 1940: Maryhill Museum of Art (Goldendale, Washington). Collection of Sam Hill and Loïe Fuller. Construction of mansion (current location of museum) was begun in 1914 by owner Sam Hill. However, construction stopped in 1917. Work resumed in 1920s and 1930s, with the intent of turning the mansion into a museum. Museum opened to the public in 1940. This museum owns more than 80 works by Rodin.
• 1940: Dumbarton Oaks (Washington DC). Collection of Mildred and Robert Woods Bliss. Museum also functioned as residence for the Bliss family. Institution dedicated and transferred to Harvard University in 1940.

1941 - 1960

• 1949: The Gilcrease Museum (Tulsa, Oklahoma). From what I have read online, it looks like that collection was open for public view in 1949. The collection was given to the city of Tulsa in 1955.
• 1951: Peggy Guggenheim Collection (Venice). Collection of Peggy Guggenheim. From 1951 Peggy opened up her home in Venice to the public during the summer months. Since Peggy's death, the Guggenheim Foundation has turned her private home into the small museum of modern art.
• 1952: Frye Art Museum (Seattle). Collection of Charles and Emma Frye. Collection contains late-19th and early-20th century European paintings.
• 1956: Kettle's Yard (Cambridge). Collection of H. S. "Jim "Ede. Museum was begun in 1956, after Jim Ede renovated four derelict cottages in Cambridge. Kettle's Yard houses modern art.

1961 - 1980 

• 1962: Mohamed Mahmoud Khalil Museum (Cairo). The museum is located in a palace that was built in 1915. In addition to housing the museum collection, the palace also served to house government offices during the '70s, '80s, and beginning of the '90s!
• 1969: Gulbenkian Museum (Lisbon). Collection of Calouste Sarkis Gulbenkian. Museum contains a large collection of over 6,000 pieces that dated from antiquity to the 20th century. For security measures, the collection was split up in the middle of the 20th century and sent to locations like the British Museum and the National Gallery in Washington DC. The collection was finally reunited in 1969 (after a lot of negotiation!), fourteen years after the death of the collector.
• 1974-75: Norton Simon Museum (Pasadena, California). This museum has an interesting history, as it originally developed as the Pasadena Art Institute (1922) and then merged with the Pasadena Museum of Art (1942). Norton Simon took over financial control and naming rights for the museum in 1974-75. Simon was an art collector who was searching for a permanent house for his collection (which includes paintings of Impressionists and Old Masters). He was able to rescue the struggling Pasadena museum and find a house for his collection at the same time.
• 1977: Hillwood Estate, Museum and Gardens (Washington DC). Collection of Marjorie Merriweather Post. Collection was bequeathed to the public in 1973, following Post's death. The museum includes decorative arts from 18th century France and imperial Russian art.

1981-present

• 1986: Charleston Farmhouse (near Lewes, East Sussex, UK). This farmhouse served as the country home of the Bloomsbury Group. A Charleston Trust was established in 1980 to restore and maintain the home for public benefit. The collection has been open to the public since 1986.
• 1986: The Johnston Collection (Melbourne). Collection of William Robert Johnston. Museum contains decorative arts and antiques. Currently, the museum is located in the Fairhall house museum. The W R Johnston trust was established in 1986 to preserve and develop the collection.
• 1994: Estorick Collection (London). Collection belonged to Eric and Salome Estorick. This collection contains a lot of Italian art dating from 1890 to 1950 (with an emphasis on the Futurists). Eric Estorick died in 1993, and in 1994 a Georgian house was bought by the Eric and Salome Estorick Foundation.

The "Collection Museum"

I have been doing some research on Isabella Stewart Gardner over the past few weeks, in hopes to present something at a conference this fall.

In doing this research, I've started to make a compilation of "collection museums" that were created by private collectors in the late 19th and early-to-mid 20th century. I love going to "collection museums," especially when such buildings also functioned as the residence for the collector. Two of my favorite museum experiences are when I visited the Phillips Collection in Washington, DC (shown right) and visited the Frick Collection (shown below on left).

First of all, I love seeing what types of art appeal to one individual, as a collector. It is also interesting to visit these museums and see how a collector would have potentially "decorated" their residence space. (The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is most interesting in this respect, since she specified in her will that the arrangement and presentation of her collection could not be altered after her death, or the whole collection would be given to Harvard University.)

I think that a museum visitor can make a lot of interesting associations with works of art when they are in such a personal, domestic setting. Although great works of art can undoubtedly stand (or hang!) on their own, I love seeing works of art in an interesting context and display. "Collector museums" are fun to have in a postmodern society, don't you think? It's much more interesting to me than the white cube gallery space, that's for sure.

Here are the "collection museums" that I have compiled so far (in chronological order of when the museums were built/founded):

UPDATE: A more comprehensive list (going outside the time frame from this post) was created in a separate post on this blog.

• The Wallace Collection (London). The collection was mainly amassed by Richard Seymoure-Conway, who bequeathed the collection to his illigetimate son, Sir Richard Wallace. Collection is displayed in the Hertford House, the main London townhouse of Sir Richard Wallace. The collection was bequeathed to the British nation in 1897 by Lady Wallace (Julie-Amélie-Charlotte Castelnau), wife of Sir Richard Wallace.
• Musée Condé in the Château de Chantilly (near Paris). Bequeathed by the Duc d'Aumale to the Institut of France in 1897. (Note: From what I can tell, this museum is not the collection of one private collector, but a collection that was amassed over time by the Montmorency and Condé families. Museum also has a collection once owned by Caroline Murat, the sister of Napoleon.)
• The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum (Boston, Massachusetts). Collection of Isabella Stewart Gardner. The museum ("Fenway Court") also served as Isabella's residence. Construction begun in 1899, opened to the public on Near Year's Day, 1903.
• Jacquemart-André Museum (Paris). Collection of André and Nélie Jacquemart. Nélie Jacquemart was a well known society painter. In accordance with her husband's wishes, Nélie bequeathed the mansion and collection to the Institut de France. Museum opened in 1913.
• The Hallwyl Museum (Stockholm). Primarily the collection of Countess Wilhelmina von Hallwyl. Museum is located in the Hallwyl House, which served as the private residence for Count and Countess van Hallwyl. Collection was donated to the state in 1920.
• The Phillips Collection (Washington, DC). Collection of Duncan Phillips. Museum building was once Phillip's residence. Founded 1921.
• Sinebrychoff Art Museum (Helsinki, Finland). Collection of Paul Sinebrychoff. Collection donated to the state in 1921. The Sinebrychoff private residence (the current location of the museum) was bequeathed to the state in 1975.
• The Barnes Foundation (originally located in Merion, Pennsylvania). Collection of Albert C. Barnes. Founded in 1922. I'm especially distraught over this museum, since the collection is currently being moved to a new location in Philadelphia. If you want to learn more about the situation involving the displacement of the Barnes Foundation, I'd recommend that you see the documentary The Art of the Steal.
• Freer Gallery of Art (Washington, DC). Collection of Charles Lang Freer. Construction begun in 1916, but gallery completion was delayed because of WWI. Gallery opened in 1926.
• Benaki Museum (Athens). Collections of Antonis Benakis. Founded in 1926. 
• The Huntington Art Gallery (Pasadena, CA). Collection of Henry E. Huntington. Museum building was once Huntington's residence. Opened in 1928.
• Musée Marmottan Monet (Paris). Originally the collection of Paul Marmottan (which was partially inherited from his father, Christophe Edmond Kellermann, Duke of Valmy). Museum was bequeathed to the Académie des Beaux Arts. The museum location originally served as the hunting lodge for Christophe Edmond Kellermann and later the home of Paul Marmottan. The Academy opened the museum in 1935. Museum collection was expanded with a gift in 1957 (Impressionist collection once owned by Doctor Georges de Bellio) and in 1966 (the personal collection of Claude Monet, bequeathed by Monet's son Michel Monet). Museum also houses a collection of illuminated manuscripts once owned by Daniel Wildenstein (who died in 2001).
• The Frick Collection (New York City). Collection of  Henry Clay Frick. Museum is housed in the former home of Henry Clay Frick. Museum opened to the public in 1935.
• The John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art (Sarasota, Florida). Collection of John and Mable Ringling. Museum functioned as the Ringling family's private residence. Art collection, mansion, and estate were bequeathed to the state of Florida in 1936, at the death of John Ringling. This museum boasts an eclectic Baroque collection, among other things.
• Maryhill Museum of Art (Goldendale, Washington). Collection of Sam Hill and Loïe Fuller. Construction of mansion (current location of museum) was begun in 1914 by owner Sam Hill. However, construction stopped in 1917. Work resumed in 1920s and 1930s, with the intent of turning the mansion into a museum. Museum opened to the public in 1940. This museum owns more than 80 works by Rodin.
• Dumbarton Oaks (Washington DC). Collection of Mildred and Robert Woods Bliss. Museum also functioned as residence for the Bliss family. Institution dedicated and transferred to Harvard University in 1940.

Know any more to add to this list? Have you been to visit any of these places? What was your experience? I learned about several of these lesser-known museums from a book review of A Museum of One's Own by Anne Higonnet. I hope to read Higgonet's book this week and add more museums to my list.

I think it's really interesting that several women were among the first to convert their private residence into a museum space, including Lady Wallace (Wallace Collection) and Isabella Stewart Gardner. Many other women were key in forming collections, such as the Countess Wilhelmina van Hallwyl (Hallwyl Museum) and Loïe Fuller (Maryhill Museum of Art). Perhaps there was something about displaying art in a domestic space that was especially appealing to female collectors? I think that I might explore this idea further in my research!

Images from Wikipedia. Frick Collection image by Wikipedia user "Gryffindor."

Museum for Forgeries

If there was a museum for art forgeries, would you go to it? What would be the appeal of seeing such forgeries? The underhanded element of crime and mystery? The sheer historical interest?

Or, on the other hand, would you consider such art to be "second rate" and unimportant? Would you find forgeries to be uninteresting from a historical perspective, since the works of art are not deemed authentic and perhaps not as old as once supposed?

I've been thinking about all of the artistic forgeries that exist in the world. Many of them have been relegated to the storage of museums, since the authenticity for most of these works were questioned after the museum acquired the forged piece. Today I've been reading about the Minoan "Statuette of a Boy-God" at the Seattle Art Museum (SAM), a supposedly forged work of art which Kenneth D. S. Lapatin discussed in his 2001 article, "Snake Goddesses, Fake Goddesses."Although the SAM no longer displays the "Boy-God," they still claim its historical provenance, as indicated on the museum website. (The museum is justified, for the most part. At this point, "Carbon-14 tests [on the SAM statue] were inconclusive because of contamination from earlier restorations. Even is contamination could be ruled out, however, science would not necessarily resolve the issue, for forgers are reported to have employed ancient materials."¹)

Wouldn't it be nice to relieve the SAM of such a problematic and questionable statue? I think it would be fun to take these works of art out of storage and put them on display. Although I know that some temporary museum exhibitions have been dedicated to forgeries (earlier this year the National Gallery in London held the exhibition "Close Examination: Fakes, Mistakes and Discoveries" (see a related Telegraph article here)), I don't know of a museum that boasts a permanent collection of forgeries.

Of course, if there was one museum dedicated to forgeries, what would that imply for the rest of the museum world? Would a museum of forgeries make other art museums seem more approachable? In other words, would a forgery museum undermine the cultural snobbery (and authoritative voice) associated with the art world? Or do you think that a museum of forgeries would perpetuate the incorrect voice of authority with the remaining "legit" museums, especially if the latter was no longer associated with forgeries (and by extension, mistakes)? Does anyone think that existing museums should embrace (and exhibit) the forgeries that are currently in storage - perhaps a museum for forgeries is unnecessary?

What forgeries would you be interested in seeing in a museum? I know that I'd like to see works by Han Van Meegeren, the infamous Vermeer forger.


1 Kenneth D. S. Lapatin, "Snake Goddess, Fake Goddess," in Archaeology 54, no. 1 (January/February 2001): 36. Abstract of the article is available here.

Lygia Clark: (Non)Interaction within the Museum

I was first introduced to the artist Lygia Clark by chance.  I was doing research in Brazil several summers ago, but arrived in Rio de Janeiro to find out that the Ministry of Culture was on strike.  All cultural institutions in the city were closed - including the National Library, where I had intended to do most of my research.  Argh!  Long story short: I discovered that the Museum of Modern Art in Rio de Janeiro was open (they must receive private funding and not be associated with the Ministry of Culture), I subsequently discovered Lygia Clark in the Tropicália exhibition, and luckily I was able to complete my research a few days later.

I think that Clark is a really interesting artist.  Much of her early work revolved around participation of the viewer.  In order to truly experience her art, Clark wanted people to touch, manipulate, and sometimes wear (!) her sculptures.  In one piece, Diálogo: Óculos ("Dialogue: Glasses", 1968, shown left), two people were supposed to wear a set of goggles.  The goggles constrained the individuals to maintain eye contact, and thus forced a type of dialogue to ensue between the two people.  It is the experience created by the goggles that is the work of art, and not the actual object itself.

Unfortunately, museum display and security don't allow Clark's work to be interactive (or even to function, really).  With art museums as a "no touch" zone, most of Clark's interactive work is stuck on pedestals and behind glass cases.  (Although, to be fair, in 2008-09 the SFMOA had an exhibition called "The Art of Participation" which allowed visitors to interact with works of art, including Lygia Clark's Diálogo: Óculos.)

But the mentality behind the "The Art of Participation" show isn't found everywhere.  Consider the particular irony of this clip from the Walker Art Museum, in which the curator explains and demonstrates how the sculpture is supposed to be experienced, but then shows the Bicho ("Bug," 1960) sculpture placed behind a glass case:



Obviously, I understand why works of art need to be placed behind protective glass.  I understand the element of preservation too, since constant handling of any sculpture will cause wear and tear on the piece.  And, to be fair, the SFMOA blog has some great reasoning about institutional limitations in regards to participation, which was posted in conjunction with "The Art of Participation" show. (This blog post also includes a link to this video of people turning Lygia Clark's Rede de elástico ("Elastic Net") into a jump rope within the gallery, which is kinda fun but obviously dangerous in the gallery space.)

Still, institutional limitations aside, I wish that there were more shows like "The Act of Participation" in the museum world. Then Lydia Clark's art would actually be able to function, instead just being a neat thing to talk about.

Museum of Bad Art

My friend Jon just sent me this article.  I was glad to see that admission is free to this museum - it would be entertaining to visit, but I wouldn't want to pay anything in order to see "bad art!"

It sounds, though, like this museum is able to turn "bad art" into something somewhat positive (gasp!) and entertaining.  I enjoyed the quote in the article by Louise Reilly Sacco (the co-founder of the museum): "We celebrate these pieces, and we enjoy them.  Once you get beyond the name of the museum, we never say bad things about them."

What do you think?  Do you think it's right for someone to stipulate if art is "bad?" (I don't have a problem with it, but I could see how such an idea could be controversial.)  Would you visit such a museum?  Would you pay for admission?

*You can check out the website for the Museum of Bad Art (MOBA) here.

Gardner Art Heist Anniversary

Twenty years ago today, two armed men entered the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and performed one of the biggest art heists in history. In a little over an hour, these two men stole an estimated $300-500 million by grabbing thirteen works of art. Some of the stolen paintings included Vermeer's The Concert (1658-1660) and Rembrandt's Storm on the Sea of Galilee (1633, shown right). This Rembrandt painting is especially of interest, since it is the only known seascape by the artist.

And now, twenty years later, investigators are making another effort to try and get the stolen art back. The Associated Press reported this week that two billboards have appeared on Interstates 93 and 495, advertising the $5 million reward.

I bet there aren't a lot of crimes which receive billboard attention twenty years after the fact. Although I kind of doubt that billboard signs are going to help recover these famous works of art, who knows? I hope that the Gardner museum gets its collection back one day.

*The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum has been in the news recently, due to a controversial modern wing that will be built onto the museum. You can read my take on the subject here.

Caravaggiomania

Caravaggio, Medusa, 1598-99

One of my students brought my attention to this recent article in the New York Times. The article highlights a new argument by Philip Sohm, an art historian at the University of Toronto. Sohm believes that people aren't as interested in the Renaissance artist Michelangelo anymore - instead, people have shifted their interest to Caravaggio. Sohm has charted interest in Caravaggio and Michelangelo through the number of scholarly publications over the past fifty years, and the number of writings about Caravaggio have gradually overtaken those about Michelangelo. Sohm calls this new phenomenon "Caravaggiomania" - and as a Baroque scholar who loves Caravaggio, I think that term is awesome.

Sohm thinks that art history doctoral students are having difficulty finding new and innovative things to say about Michelangelo. I don't doubt this is the case. Michelangelo and the Renaissance period have been beaten to death for centuries in terms of research - but I do think that new interpretations and fresh scholarship can still rise up in the 21st century. I just wonder where Renaissance scholarship can go for new and fresh ideas. I've been thinking about this quite recently, actually, ever since I read heidenkind's post about her difficulty in finding great publications about Donatello.

Sohm's Caravaggio argument is timely, particularly since this year celebrates the 400th anniversary of the artist's death. There are a lot of huge celebrations and events taking place to honor Caravaggio this year, including a major exhibition that is currently on display at the Scuderie del Quirinale in Rome. This exhibition is bringing together Caravaggio paintings from all over the world - you can see a list of the paintings at the bottom of this Italian website. Other events have also taken place in preparation for this show, such as the public restoration of Adoration of the Shepherds. How I wish that I could go to Rome and celebrate this summer!

Anyhow, because of these celebrations, there undoubtedly has been Caravaggiomania over the past couple of months and years. Here's the question that I would pose to Sohm: How many publications and writings have occurred recently because of the preparations for this celebration? Is it possible that we will see a decline in Caravaggiomania next year, once all of the celebrations have ended?

MOMA Breaking from the White Cube

I just read this interesting blog post by a curatorial assistant at the MOMA. It looks like the major museum is slowly breaking away from the "white cube" ideology by painting some of the walls. Now, granted, light grey isn't an extreme departure from the white cube space, but hey, it's a start. (You can see a photograph of the color change within the MOMA blog post.)

Any opinions on the color choice? Do you think that there are new associations brought about by the changes to wall color? For me, the light gray seems to give the modern paintings a feeling of history - gray evokes the passage of time, emphasizing that these works are not brand-spanking new.

Do you think that gray walls seem to historicize these works more than the neutral white color? Maybe historicizing these modern works is a good thing - after all, in the 21st century, modern art is a thing of the past.

Super Bowl Bets Extend to Museums!

In true art-history-nerd fashion, I did not realize that the Super Bowl was next Sunday (February 7th) until I read this art news article from today.

It's common for people to place bets on the outcome of Super Bowl games, and it looks like art museum directors are no exception! The directors of the Indianapolis Museum of Art and New Orleans Museum of Art have agreed to wager items from their collection in order to support their hometeams. If the New Orleans Saints win, then the Indianapolis Museum of Art will send Turner's The Fifth Plague of Egypt (1800, shown above) to be displayed in the New Orleans Museum of Art for three months. In turn, if the Indianapolis Colts win the Superbowl, then the New Orleans Museum of Art will send Lorrain's Ideal View of Tivoli (1644, shown below) to be displayed in the Indianapolis Museum of Art for three months.

It appears that the bet was instigated and encouraged by Tyler Green, whose writes the Modern Art Notes blog. You can see Green's Super Bowl post here.

I honestly have no opinion as to which team is going to win the Super Bowl. But if I had to root for one, I guess it would be the New Orleans Saints - purely because I think the Turner is an interesting painting and it should have a chance to travel for temporary exhibition!

Is anyone else rooting for one painting to travel over another?

Sympathy for Renoir

Anyone who reads this blog regularly can attest to my distaste for Renoir - particularly Renoir's later works. (Case in point: I used the word "hideous" to describe a Renoir painting in this post and in a comment for this post.)

I'm not the only person who dislikes Renoir. In fact, people have critiqued his work for decades. Impressionist painter Mary Cassatt wrote in 1913 that Renoir was painting horrific pictures "of enormously fat red women with very small heads."¹ Even Renoir once admitted, "I had gone as far as I could with Impressionism, and I realized I could neither paint nor draw."² I couldn't agree more.

Although Renoir's later paintings have gotten a bad reputation, a new traveling exhibition called "Renoir in the 20th Century" strives to place the painter in a more positive light. You can read more about this exhibition (and further critiques of Renoir's style) in a recent Smithsonian article.

Personally, I have no desire to see this show. My opinion of Renoir is pretty much solidified at this point, and I wouldn't want to waste my time. However, I must admit that the Smithsonian article has changed my perception of Renoir. I didn't realize that the artist suffered from extreme rheumatoid arthritis in his later life. Due to this disease, the artist painted while under constant pain. He later suffered from paralysis in his right shoulder, which forced the artist to paint with his left hand (see image above).

So, although I don't find any aesthetic appeal in Renoir's later works, I do have much more sympathy for the artist. I guess in a way, I can now relate to Renoir on a very small level. Any discomfort that I feel when seeing his art was also painfully experienced by Renoir when his paintings were created.

1 Richard Covington, "Renoir Rebels Again" in Smithsonian 40, no. 11 (January 2010): 67.

2 Ibid.

New Gardner Museum Addition

I just read here about recently unveiled plans for a new addition to the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum. I'm really surprised about this new modern wing, especially since Isabella Stewart Gardner's will requires that the museum cannot be altered from how she originally designed and curated the collection display. In fact, in order to get approval for this new modern addition, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court had to approve a deviation from the will last year.

But why meddle with Gardner's aesthetic vision? I think that shows great disrespect for the person who amassed this collection in the first place. Gardner stipulated that if her collection/museum ever deviated from her aesthetic vision, then her whole collection would immediately be transferred to the ownership of Harvard University. (Until recently, the museum staff has followed these instructions insofar as to hang empty frames when masterpieces were stolen off of the wall in 1990.) If Isabella knew about the new changes taking place in her museum, I'm sure she'd sent the collection to Harvard posthaste.

What do other people think? Am I being irrational? Do you think the museum is justified in their plans for expansion? Maybe I'm just a historical purist - I hate to see things change just to accommodate modernity.

Forgers, Copyists, and Authenticity/Authority

I remember being surprised to learn that the Ghent Altarpiece (1432) that exists today is not entirely a product of the fifteenth century.¹ One of the panels in the altarpiece ("The Just Judges") was stolen in the 1930s, and was repainted by the copyist Jef Vanderveken in 1945 (see left).

I think it's telling that none of my art history books mention anything about Vanderveken or this copied panel. And when I traveled to Ghent to see this altarpiece in 2003, I don't remember seeing any information about any other artist than van Eyck. I think there's a reason for this "cover-up": the altarpiece doesn't appear to be a product of pristine history and genius with the knowledge that not everything is "authentic" (i.e. by van Eyck's hand). And I would argue that by extension, to undermine the genius of van Eyck's work would also undermine the genius and authoritative voice of the art historical discipline.

This connection between authenticity and the authoritative voice is interesting. One of the most prominent places to encounter an authoritative (and institutional) voice is within the museum setting. Pieces of art are displayed within the museum, and an unspoken authoritative voice tells museum visitors, "This is important and authentic by the mere fact that it's on display." And museum visitors do not question that implied statement (at least, they're not encouraged to do so!).

But what happens when a work of art in a museum collection is determined to not be authentic? This change in status (i.e. artistic genius) reflects poorly on the museum because it loses a measure of authority. (Museums don't want to admit that they make mistakes, too!)

I'm particularly reminded of the forger Han van Meegeren, who duped the art world into thinking it had discovered several paintings by Vermeer (among a few other artists). Van Meegeren's forgeries are now scattered throughout the world in many prominent collections, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the National Gallery (Washington, DC). However, from what I can tell, these paintings are not on permanent display at most of these museums. Instead, the forgeries are shuttled down to the depths of storage, to hide the blemish of mistake and allow the museum to still "speak" authoritatively.

Furthermore, whenever Van Meegeren paintings are on display for temporary exhibition, it appears that they are almost always labeled with "Imitator of Vermeer" or "After Johannes Vermeer." Even though Van Meegeren was exposed and we know who made the forgeries, museums don't give him any credit for his work! It's as if the museum world still wants to try and tap into the genius of Vermeer by association, even though we know that the paintings are fakes. Bah!

Do you know of any other instances where a question of authenticity has undermined the authority of a museum/art appraiser/work of art/art history textbook?

1 In fact, the Ghent altarpiece was not entirely a product of Jan van Eyck "hand." It appears that the Ghent altarpiece was begun by the painter Hubert van Eyck, Jan's brother. See my post on the topic here.

Rembrandt Discovered in Bathroom Cabinet

Lately there have been some connections between bathrooms and the discoveries of great/important art. Yep - I'm not kidding. Remember the couple that discovered a Raphael copy in their apartment? They found the copy after they decided to build a new bathroom in their home. And now, once again, the bathroom comes into play for another discovery:

The History Blog posted today about a Rembrandt etching that was discovered in the back of a bathroom cabinet (see above). Father O'Connell, president of the Catholic University of America (Washington, DC) found this etching in the bathroom of his office - he was looking for paper towels and ended up discovering a much older (and non-utilitarian) piece of paper. No one is sure how the etching ended up in the cabinet.

The etching was appraised and authenticated as a Rembrandt last year. This week, Catholic University of America opened a new exhibition which features this new discovery. The exhibition will be open until the May 24th.

This story sounds so bizarre - who would shove a Rembrandt in a bathroom cabinet? All I can say is, I'm positive that there's nothing that significant in my bathroom.

What Old/Castaway Object Embodies You?

I think it's cool that Jean Shin's sculptures and installations are made out of castaway objects. Her work on the right, Chemical Balance (2005), is made with prescription bottles, mirrors, and epoxy. Other sculptures are made out of broken umbrellas, old lottery tickets, worn shoes, etc. You should check out Shin's work on her website - it's really neat. I really like her Sound Wave (2007, made out of records) and Worn Soles (2001).

This month's edition of Smithsonian has an interview with Shin (to promote the show "Jean Shin: Common Threads" that is at the Smithsonian American Art Museum until this coming Sunday (July 26)). During the interview, Shin mentioned how she collects objects from people, starting with her friends and family members. The interviewer brought up the point that Shin's sculptures can be seen as group portraits. Shin mentioned how she views each object as part of an individual's history and identity, and she wants her work to "embod[y] people's lives."

I really like the idea of Shin's work as group portraits. It made me think about what kind of objects could be considered as my own portrait. I thought of all the buttons in my sewing box. They are all of the extra buttons that came with the different shirts, pants, and shorts that I have owned. Some of the clothing has been long-gone, but I've never taken any of the old buttons out of my stash. I guess if there was a Jean Shin-esque sculpture made as my portrait, it could be of buttons.

What about you? What old/castaway objects could be your portrait? What works by Shin do you like?

Transforming the Book

Last weekend I went to this really fantastic exhibition at the Bellevue Arts Museum (BAM). All of the artists in this exhibition create their art out of printed books and book covers. Using books as a medium for sculptures gives new definition to the word "volume," doesn't it?

I particularly liked this work on the left, Petra, by Guy Laramée (2007). I've always thought Petra was a fascinating place (I've even blogged about it here, where you can see a picture of the actual treasury that inspired Laramée). Another work in the show by Laramée consisted of two rows of stacked Encyclopedia Brittanicas, with one side of each row carved like a canyon. (You can see a picture of the piece and an artist statement here).

There was also a striking work by the Scottish artist Georgia Russell. Most of Russell's works involve cutting books, book covers, and photographs. The one shown here, Leurs Secrets (2007) is similar to the one in the BAM's show. You can see more of Russell's work here.

The exhibition also had some "excavated books" by James Allen. I thought this one, Churches of our Fathers (2007) was especially beautiful and striking.

You really should check out Jennifer Shoshbin's altered books too. A few of these were in the show too. Her style and idea are an interesting mixture of vintage and contemporary, which is really fun.

It was interesting to go to this show and think about the history of books and print. My husband is a graphic designer, and we often have talked about the demise of printed books and printed material. I wonder how long it will take for most books to be produced online or through digital format (which is sad, since I love holding books and flipping through their pages). In a way, using books as an artistic medium in this show (and placing those books in a museum, the place where artifacts are preserved) seemed to historicize printed books even more. And some of the words used to describe the art (e.g. "excavated") further antiquated the book medium. Although I loved this show (I would wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who lives in the Seattle area), I also couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for the future of books and printed material.

What do you think about these artists and their works? What do you think about the demise of printed books?

Juxtaposition of Images

Mieke Bal's book Looking In: The Art Of Viewing has forever changed the way that I look at exhibitions in art museums and galleries. In her chapter "On Grouping," Bal discusses how the juxtaposition of different images on a museum wall can create meanings and connotations which never would have existed otherwise. She discusses a grouping of three paintings in a Berlin museum: Amor Vincit Omnia (Caravaggio), Doubting Thomas (Caravaggio, shown above) and also Heavenly Amor Defeats Earthly Love (Baglione). Specifically, she argues that the placement of Doubting Thomas between these two images of nudes creates a new dynamic within the first painting. For Bal, she feels like "Jesus' barely visible leg at the lower left becomes slightly coquettish" when placed alongside Caravaggio's nude Amor (whose sprawled legs cover a good portion of its canvas).¹ If you're interested, you can read parts of Bal's argument and see a grouping of the three images online.

Since reading this article a few years ago, I am constantly looking for new meanings and connotations which come about because of the juxtaposition of images in a museum. A few years ago I helped hang an exhibition which featured work by the artist Sean Diediker. Due to the size of the paintings and the space of the museum, it ended up that a large painting of a female nude was placed to the left of a painting of Joseph Smith (the Mormon prophet) receiving a vision. Joseph Smith was kneeling down in semi-profile, looking at a vision that was placed to the left of the picture frame. If the picture frames between the nude and Smith were invisible, then the boy prophet would have been looking right at the nude woman. All of the sudden, the look of surprise and awe on Joseph Smith's face began to look a little more embarrassed, as if he wasn't supposed to be staring at a nude female!

As Bal points out in her book, every viewer brings their own personal experiences ("cultural baggage") and past to a work of art. Therefore, we all have our own personal reaction to what kind of dialogue and connotations are created by a work of art. The writer of this article reacted to a past installation at the Whitney Museum (shown below), saying that "the juxtaposition of Urs Fischer’s Intelligence of Flowers (holes in the wall) and Untitled (hanging shapes) with Rudolf Stingel’s black & white photorealistic self-portrait creates an impression of crushing despondency in the face of a wrecked world."

I agree that such a reaction to this exhibition of art is possible. Personally though, having just seen a recent episodes of LOST that involve swinging pendulums and abandoned Dharma Initiative stations, I can't help but think of anything else when I look at these hanging shapes, circles, and gaping holes.

Have you ever found interesting connotations or dialogue that was created by the juxtaposition of artwork? What kind of personal "cultural baggage" has affected your reaction to a work of art?

1 Mieke Bal, Looking In: The Art Of Viewing (New York: Routledge, 2000), 184.

Isabella Stewart Gardner

The Women's Studies Journal recently posted a call for article submissions regarding female art collectors. Here are some of the questions listed in the posting:

"Paintings and sculptures of women have long been objects of the collector's desire: what happens to this gendered dynamic when the collector is a woman? Is the drive to collect necessarily a masculine quality? What, if anything, is it to collect like a woman? Can collections be distinctively feminine? To what extent does a collection reflect its collector? What ethnic or feminist lenses may be applied to our understanding of these collections?"

(For anyone interested, the rest of the posting is found here).

I would really like to submit an article about Isabella Stewart Gardner. She was a fine art collector in the 19th-early 20th centuries and opened a museum of her collection in 1903. Today, the museum remains essentially unchanged since Isabella's death in 1924.

There are many aspects to Mrs. Gardner's life and collection that can be interpreted through a feminist lens. I think that the practice of art collecting is characteristically male, and it seems that Isabella also adopted (and perhaps flaunted?) some masculine characteristics aside from art collecting. She loved masculine sports like baseball and horseracing; the local newspapers were scandalized (and intrigued) by her behavior. Furthermore, Isabella's appellate was also masculine; she was referred to as "Mrs. Jack" ("Jack" was her husband's nickname).

However, for all of the masculine characteristics that Isabella exhibited, I think that the display and maintenance of her art collection lends itself to feminist interpretation. Specifically, I would argue that Gardner's museum (and consequently Isabella Stewart Gardner herself) resists outside control and change, which I think can be extended to a rejection of the controlling "male gaze." (I have written a little more about the "male gaze" here). Isabella stipulated in her will that the museum needs to be permanently exhibited according her aesthetic vision. I think that because the museum remains unchanged, Gardner still remains part of the female "subject" that visitors see when they come to the museum. If her art collection was to be moved around and changed, Gardner would shift from being a powerful female "subject" to a female "object" - and consequently all of the paintings in the room would become "objects" instead of embodiments of Gardner and her aesthetic taste.

Because of Isabella's will stipulations, the museum has remained unchanged since her death. Even when several masterpieces were stolen (a loss that amounted between $300 and $500 million - the biggest art heist in history!) from the museum in 1990, the museum maintained the same display (with empty frames where the stolen paintings were once located). Today, these empty frames still remain, since the crime was never solved. (You can read a little more about the crime here).

Even with these absent paintings, I think that the frames still function to represent the "subjecthood" and female control of Isabella Stewart Gardner.

What do people think about female art collectors and Isabella Stewart Gardner? How would you respond to some of the questions put forth by the Women's Studies Journal?

Some of My Favorites

A few days ago, my friend Emilee asked what were my favorite museums and works of art that I have visited/seen during my travels abroad. The things I included in this list are the ones that made a greatest impression on me during my study abroad. I've also included some architectural sites and American museums that I love.

Italy
The Borghese Gallery, Rome. Anyone who loves Bernini and Caravaggio MUST go here. The collection is amazing. The only time I have cried in front of a work of art was here, in front of Bernini's David.

The Cornaro Chapel (Santa Maria Vittoria), Rome. Bernini's St. Theresa in Ecstasy is housed here. I don't even remember how long I stared at this sculpture, but it was a long time.

St. Peter's Cathedral and Piazza, Rome. I know that Maderno's cathedral facade will eternally be the butt of all architectural jokes, but it's kind of endearing all the same (despite the fact that it covers up the drum of the dome! Silly Maderno.). And to stand in Bernini's piazza, looking at such a magnificent cathedral - wow. It's an incredible experience. It's just as incredible to stand inside the cathedral as well. One feels so small and insignificant inside such a massive structure. The Cathedra Petri (Bernini) and Pieta (Michelangelo) are also gorgeous. There are some great pics of the cathedral and piazza here.

San Vitale, Ravenna. Some of the most gorgeous, glittering mosaics in the world are located here. It's so stunning.

San Giorgio Maggiore, Venice. I originally went here to see Palladio's crisp architecture, but ended up being pleasantly surprised to find Tintoretto's Last Supper here. This is probably my favorite depiction of the Last Supper.

France
The Louvre, Paris. The works of art that left the greatest impression on me were the Nike of Samothrace, Da Vinci's Madonna of the Rocks, and David's Coronation of Napoleon (this painting is MASSIVE!). Of course, I did meander over for my obligatory peep at the Mona Lisa, but it was a rather frustrating experience. There was a large crowd of people shouting and trying to take pictures of the portrait, and you can't even see the painting very well because it is behind a plastic barrier. I've always felt kind of "meh" about the Mona Lisa, and this experience just solidified my indifference. Madonna of the Rocks is a much more striking, interesting painting (and there was no crowd gathered in front of it when I was there!)

Holland
The Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam. One has to see Van Gogh's works in person.

The Anne Frank House, Amsterdam. I know this isn't an art museum, but visiting this house was one of the most memorable experiences I have had abroad. I guess this is because I read Anne Frank's diary as a girl.

Belgium
The Ghent Altarpiece. This is a very, very large altarpiece, the fine details painted by Jan Van Eyck are absolutely amazing. See pics here.

London
The Tate. Seeing Ophelia by Millais was unforgettable. I have never seen a slide or reproduction that accurately captured the brillancy of the green vegetation.

United States
The Frick Collection, New York, NY. This collection is displayed in the house that was owned by Mr. Frick, and the staff strives to maintain the ambiance of a private residence. There are not ropes or glass cases protecting the art; rather, it feels as if you are a guest that is invited to walk around the home and view the incredible art. A lot of this art is from the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, so I especially love this place. In fact, I've already blogged about my experience here. The two things I remember enjoying the most were Holbein's portrait of Thomas More and Bellini's St. Francis in Ecstasy.
The Phillips Collection, Washington, DC. This is another house of a private collector. The Phillips were interested in collecting "modern" art, although I don't think everyone would agree with Duncan Phillip's definition of "modern." I remember being struck by a beautiful El Greco painting of The Repentant St. Peter. I would imagine that most people wouldn't label El Greco a modernist (this painting is from the early 17th century), but I can see why a modern art lover would be drawn to the bright colors and exaggerated features of the figure. Duncan Phillips actually called El Greco the "first impassioned expressionist." This museum also has a great Rothko room that afforded me the most intimate experience with Rothko that I have had thus far. In addition, the collection has temporary exhibitions which are also fantastic.


There are many other places and works of art which left an impression on me, but these are some of my top favorites. When compiling this list, I realized how much I love to see art in settings other than the traditional modern museum space (sometimes called "the white cube" space in museum theory). A lot of the places listed above were/are private houses, palaces, and churches. I think this is partially because I like to look at the architecture as well as the art, and the "white cube" architecture tries to not compete with the art on display. I guess I must like a little of competition between the two mediums? Hmm - perhaps this also reveals how I feel about art's original intent and where it should be displayed. I'll have to think about that more.

What about YOU? What are your favorite museums and works of art?

Bernini in America

So, apparently, good things can come from being forced to return illegally obtained works of art. After the Getty museum returned around 40 illegally excavated and exported antiquities to Italy, the museum was able to receive rare Italian loans for a blockbuster exhibition of Bernini's work - the first major exhibition for the Baroque sculptor in America. One of the loans includes the portrait bust of Costanza Bonarelli, Bernini's mistress. Like with many of Bernini's other portraits, Costanza is portrayed with her head turned and lips parted, as if she is about to speak. The lifelike and dramatic quality of Bernini's portraits is just one of the things that I love so much about his sculptures.

One thing that is unusual about Costanza's portrait is that it appears that Bernini made the bust for his own enjoyment. During the Baroque period, marble was quite expensive, and it is quite unusual for an uncommissioned marble bust to have been made at this time. In fact, this sculpture is thought to be the first uncommisioned bust in art history.

Bernini's other portrait sculptures are just as captivating and lifelike. One of the reasons for this lifelike quality is that Bernini tried to convey different textures (e.g. hair, lace, cloth, etc.) with the marble. He also would carve deep incisions which would create shadows and thereby suggest dark color - which can be seen in the dark irises of the Pedro de Foix Montoya bust. Bernini did not have his portrait subjects sit for him while he worked, which makes his stunning likenesses even more extraordinary. When finishing this Montoya portrait, it is recorded that Cardinal Barbernini touched the priest Montoya and said, "This is the portrait of Monsignor Montoya," and then turned to Bernini's bust and said, "And this is Monsignor Montoya."

Not only was Bernini a good sculptor, but he could work quickly when necessary. When creating a bust portrait for Cardinal Scipione Borghese, an interior instability in the marble caused it to crack when it was hit with a simple, straightforward hammer tap. In this detail of the bust, you can see how the crack passed over the forehead of the cardinal and around the back of his head. Unfortunately for Bernini, who had been working on the bust for months, the portrait was near to completion when the damage occured. With no way to disguise the crack, Bernini started completely over and completed the second bust in only fifteen days, albeit that he worked nearly non-stop. Upon completion, Bernini first unveiled the cracked version and undoubtedly enjoyed the look of horror that certainly passed over the cardinal's face, only to then unveil the second, flawless copy.

How I wish that I could be in Los Angeles to see these sculptures! This exhibition is on display until October 26, and then will be at the National Gallery of Canada from the end of November to March 2009 . Since I don't plan on being in L.A. or Ottawa any time soon, I guess I will need to be content with this. Sigh.

* If you're interested in reading more about this exhibition and Bernini, you can refer to the October 2008 edition of Smithsonian magazine and Simon Schama's Power of Art (New York: Harper Collins), 78-125.

Why Do You Go?

Last Friday I went and saw this exhibition at the Seattle Art Museum. Basically, the show displayed paintings by the Impressionist painters and also earlier paintings which had inspired the Impressionists. As an art historian, I love looking at things within a historical continuum and I enjoyed observing connections between the older paintings and the later Impressionist works. The Impressionist works weren't that outstanding or famous - instead, they were relatively obscure works by big-name Impressionists (i.e. Monet, Manet, Degas, Cassatt, etc.). I have to admit, though, I'm not a die-hard lover of Impressionist art. I like it a lot, but I don't love it. I was way more excited to see the older works of art (e.g. Velasquez, Fragonard, El Greco, Lorrain). This painting of "Young Girl Reading" (Fragonard, c. 1776) was one of my favorite works. The electric purpley-blue accent paint on her pillow and bow were absolutely stunning. I wish that my reproduction of the painting did the work better justice.

All in all, the exhibition was alright. I only had two problems with the show. First of all, there was a whole room dedicated to Cezanne. Art historically, I would argue that Cezanne was not an Impressionist. I think he was more concerned with geometric forms (really, he was a precursor to Cubism) than interested in the optical effects of color and light. And second, they displayed an absolutely HIDEOUS nude by Renoir. It was disproportionate and full of really awful color combinations (I think he was (unsuccessfully) trying his hand at Fauvism, since this work was rather late (1912)). Blech. And the irony is, this monstrous painting was in the center of a doorway, acting as the "draw" to pull people into that section of the gallery! I almost laughed out loud at the irony and kept looking around me, wondering if anyone else noticed how ugly this painting was. But no, there were the museum patrons, listening to their handheld audio tour devices and intently looking at the painting with blank stares.

My past instructor Mark Magleby would have been proud at my disgust for this work by Renoir. I looked in the museum gift shop to see if there was a postcard of this horrible painting, so I could send it to Mark as a joke. They didn't have one. At least the painting wasn't high enough in the exhibition hierarchy to make it to the gift shop. The curators must have anticipated that no one would want to buy a copy of that painting to take home. And for good reason.

Anyhow, after the exhibition I was chatting with a member of the museum staff. He mentioned that the show wasn't as much of a blockbuster as the museum anticipated. He posited that the show was too "theoretical" in nature, since it asks the visitor to analyze the paintings and find connections between paintings and their painting-predecessors. While I don't think that this was the failure of the show (in my opinion, there were not enough famous paintings - no water lilies, haystacks, Rouen cathedrals, ballerinas, or luncheons on the grass to bring in the crowds of people), I thought that this was an interesting observation.

Do people avoid museum exhibitions that are theoretical? Would people rather just go to look at exhibitions which display paintings in a chronological manner, such as the National Gallery in D.C.? Do people like reading informative text panels, or would they rather just see a "tombstone label" (containing only the title of the work, artist, and date?). When I took a curatorship seminar last year, these were some of the questions we discussed. Most of the students in the class decided that people prefer theoretical exhibitions, but like to make their own conclusions - therefore, visitors like having the theory presented in large text panels or overarching themes, but then they (postmodernly) prefer to make the individual connections between the works of art and the theory presented (having "tombstone labels" by the works of art so that people aren't force-fed what connections to make with the theory). However, all of the people in this class were aspiring art historians or curators. I'm sure that our opinion of what the general public wants is tainted and biased.

So, why do you go to a museum? Is it to get "cultured?" Are you trying to figure out "what the big deal is" with famous works of art? Do you like looking at art, or do you like to analyze at the same time? How much information do you like presented to you? Would you prefer theoretical or historical information? I'm interested in responses from all types of people - and I encourage comments from people who don't visit art museums on a regular basis.

*On a similar note, I think it would be fun to have a museum exhibition that bluntly explains the reasoning for hanging each painting on the wall. You could see text labels like, "This work is here because we are trying to keep on good terms with the estate of this deceased artist. The estate wouldn't lend us another painting if we didn't hang this one for at least six months out of the year" or "This isn't a very good painting, but it is by a relatively well-known artist, so we felt justified in hanging it" or "We needed a large painting to fill this wall. You can see that the painting isn't preserved very well (note X, Y, and Z), but we're hanging it here until a better preserved painting finishes getting re-framed." I don't know if a museum would want to have an exhibition which made its authoritative/institutional voice so transparent (and think of all of the political problems it could cause between artists, curators, etc.!) but I think it would be fun.