Roberto Coromina, Untitled, 2002, oil on paper, 25.6”x32”. Courtesy Magnan Projects, New York.
“Collectors have achieved a central role in contemporary art, not that the spirit of today’s collectors has less or nothing to do with yesteryear’s philanthropist or maecenas. With the advent of neo-capitalism and neo-con philosophy, new players and distant economies have descended upon the arts with a set of new motivations that loathe the great charm of the cultural benefactor in his relationship with “the men of genius” who formed his circle. The original simplicity, cordiality and sincerity have given way to aggressiveness, benefit-seeking, and vanity. This attitude, that for decades was considered by Europeans typically “American,” is finding its way among European private collectors.”
“How do you acquire or display a work of performance art that exists only in the form of an instruction sheet? What should conservators do about works that are deteriorating because they were made from unstable materials, such as neon, or sharks? If you want to exhibit a huge work of conceptual art that is housed at another museum, does it make sense to pay for shipping when you could probably just get permission to make a copy?”
via Copy That! Wait, Don’t. Whitney Ponders Problem of Replication in Modern Art | The New York Observer.
For those unaware, Jerry Saltz – New York Magazine art critic – has been playing host to one of the most vital and candid discussions on modern and contemporary art in an unlikely place: Facebook. Saltz’s profile updates and posts get hundreds of comments and he actively responds, debates, and engages with commenters.
For some time now Jerry has been hammering on MoMA for underrepresenting women in its permanent collection and, by proxy, the history of modern art. He recently wrote a letter to MoMA articulating his grievances, suggesting remedies, and indicating that hundreds of his “fans” on Facebook found the discrepency alarming. MoMA offered up Ann Temkin – Chief Curator of Prints and Drawings – to meet with him to discuss the situation. Jerry wrote about their meeting on his Facebook page but since it’s cloistered behind the Facebook wall, those without access won’t be able to read this document. So here it is:
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Jerry Saltz
June 29, 2009
Last week I met with MoMA’s Chief Curator of Painting and Sculpture, Ann Temkin. We talked about the two week discussion (that took place on my Facebook Page) about the lack of representation of women artists on the fourth and fifth floors of the museum’s permanent collection (of work completed before 1970). Of the 135 artists installed on these floors only 19 are women, 6%. Temkin asked that this meeting be “off the record” but agreed that I would report on its perimeters and my impressions.
The meeting was cordial, relaxed, open, and serious. It began at 5:00PM and lasted a little under 90 minutes. It took place midweek at a bar in a midtown restaurant. I didn’t take notes on, or record the conversation. The restaurant was almost empty when we started; it was almost full when we left.
At no time was Temkin defensive, dismissive, or in the least hostile. She agreed with some points and was not shy about disagreeing with others. As I wrote many times in my FB posts, Temkin confirmed that she and every person at MoMA, from the Director on down, are well aware of the problem of the lack of representation by women artists on these floors. She stated at the outset that the museum is committed and determined to rectify this.
Temkin then took major issue with the focus and reasoning of my main argument about female representation at MoMA. She stated that concentrating only on the fourth and fifth floors of Painting & Sculpture, perpetuated and reinforced a flawed stereotype and prejudice about the history of modern art. Excluding drawing, design, printmaking, photography, etc. (areas where women are represented and made great contributions) reinforces an outmoded and strictly “masculinist” approach to art by privileging painting and sculpture.
At first as she said this my heart sank. Of course she’s right. I answered that it is MoMA above all art institutions that reinforces and maintains this separation between the disciplines. Although it is growing more common to see mediums being mixed at MoMA (August Sander now hangs in the gallery in P & S devoted to the German Neue Sachlichkeit), MoMA established and still exhibits the disciplines more-or-less separately and not equally. There is far more square footage situated far more centrally and prominently for P & S than any of the other disciplines. I said it would be fantastic to see the collapse of MoMA’s artificial barriers between the disciplines (“MoMA tear down this wall!”), but suspected that this wouldn’t be in the cards any time soon. In addition, MoMA’s collection of painting and sculpture is preeminent; it is unsurpassed anywhere in the world. Therefore it is on these two crucial floors that the so-called “official story” of Modernism is represented. This is MoMA’s boon and its bane.
This brought us back to the main issue. Temkin stated that work by women artists has been rotated into the collection over the course of the last two years, and that the FB protestors and I were not taking this into account. I acknowledged this but said that even with these substitutions and changes the percentage of women artists on these floors did not rise, and that these adjustments weren’t enough. (If you count the works of art, rather than artists, the figure drops to four percent women.) Temkin then said that talking about the collection primarily in terms of numbers obscures larger important changes. She cited the current installation of a Louise Bourgeois sculpture at the entrance of the fourth floor. The Bourgeois sculpture is being given pride-of-place, the space on this floor that Cezanne has long enjoyed on the fifth floor. Bourgeois is being presented as a touchstone figure. I conceded that it was true that by only counting the number of women artists does not reflect structural changes. Still, this didn’t seem like a solution.
I stated that the problem behind the problem of the lack of women on these floors is the 875 million dollar (almost criminal) failure on the part of those who built the new museum to provide enough space for this crucial portion of the institution (let alone other departments). Until the space can be substantially increased the museum is in a terrible double bind: It has to display its extraordinary collection and at the same time allow modernism to live, and not calcify in a masterpiece-by-masterpiece
What to do? Temkin talked convincingly about how important it was to change the perception of these two floors, away from being seen as permanent to fluid installations of reappraisal and experimentation. She said that unlike all the previous decades the museum intends to alter these two floors on a more regular basis. Even “important work” might temporarily be de-installed. This would open up the story, expand it, and allow the focus of the collection to continually shift. Temkin suggested that whole rooms could be dismantled and all new work put on view. When I asked for an example she talked about de-installing the monographic gallery of Joseph Beuys and replacing it with a gallery devoted to late-1960s artists Beuys, Bruce Nauman, and Eva Hesse.
MoMA desperately needs this to play with its collection. However, Temkin’s example perpetuates yet another problem plaguing MoMA. Beuys, Nauman, and Hesse are all bona fide top-dogs; the A-list as art history. I love them all but curators have to take more chances and not just default to the same artists. Other artists were working at extremely high levels in the late 1960s. It would be amazing to see that MoMA gallery with any combination of H.C. Westermann, Jay De Feo, Jess, Yvonne Rainer, Benny Andrews, Dorothy Iannone, Jim Nutt, Bruce Conner, Vija Celmins, Barclay Hendricks, Adrian Piper, Ken Price, or Martin Ramirez. And let’s not forget that Picasso was one of the best artists of the 1960s (or that Henry Darger was in the process of working on his epic masterpiece). MoMA could hang an entire floor with only the late work of artists. This would show that art is about 30-year careers not just 30-month careers.
This brought us to what for me was an emotional turning point in the conversation. We began talking about so-called “institutional time.” I said that institutional time, as she described it, was “glacial” and “too slow” to address the serious problems plaguing MoMA. Temkin talked about how every change at MoMA has implications and repercussions and that over time even small changes and minor adjustments make significant differences. “Art is long” she seemed to say. My reaction was that, time is short. I said that I believed that if enough isn’t done soon, the changes MoMA is talking about will come about when MoMA and Modernism have come to be seen as retrograde and the museum is seen as stuck in the mud.
I then brought up the possibility of a much larger change, the re-installation of the entire fourth floor. Temkin said that she has been seriously studying this for some time. She is considering having the entire floor devoted to one stylistic post-war period. This seemed hopeful. Then she added that this sort of plan could be implemented in three or four years. I complained, “Why not sooner?” After hearing her thoughts about considerations having to do with loans, schedules, restorations, etc., I said again that while I thought that revamping whole floors was a fantastic idea, the time was now.
We looked at each for a while, then at our watches. We left the bar and shared a cab uptown. We talked about summer plans and recent travels. We got out and said a friendly goodbye.
As I opened my umbrella and walked away I thought about how extraordinary this meeting was. Past MoMA curators of Painting and Sculpture would never have met with a critic who started a kerfuffle on Facebook (or anywhere else). I thought about how absolutely open and aware Temkin was of the situation. Then I thought about how she sees her responsibility as opposed to the way I see it. She is trying to do the best for MoMA, its history, audiences, and art. She is taking a long view. I value these things. I love MoMA. But I also see the situation as dire and deteriorating. And we had barely even discussed the thing that got all of this started; how to dramatically raise the percentage of women artists exhibited on these tow floors and not have it be about tokenism or quotas. To me, MoMA is becoming like a madman who thinks he is King; it is telling a story that by now only it believes.
As I walked through the rain I thought about how much I admired Temkin but that the problems at MoMA are so vast and inter-connected that if any change is to come it will likely come slowly, by piecemeal, and incrementally. The irreparable space limitation, a mindset still guided my mediums, the problem of exhibiting mainly well-know names, the issue of having so few women; each of these is gigantic in itself. Each will take time and effort to correct. When I think about how this museum built too small during the richest period in the history of the world I grow furious and morose.
As the rain started coming down harder I realized that despite Temkin’s valiant efforts, and the museum’s dedication to alter its course, that we can no longer look to institutions like this for change. Institutions have different responsibilities, mindsets, priorities, pocketbooks, histories, and internal clocks. They’re big, slow, and institutional. Change is going to have to come from all over and be done by everyone.
This is already beginning to happen. Locally, so many New York galleries have been doing such a tremendous job over the last decade (ditto out of town museums). The same day I met with Temkin I saw a wonderful show at Casey Kaplan Gallery in Chelsea about Russian-Georgian Modernism. A young Swiss curator, unable to get this work out of Georgia, mounted a show of catalogs, reproductions, Xeroxes, texts, and films. There was fantastic art by artists I’d never heard of, artists who it would be spectacular to see integrated into MoMA’s installation. At Kaplan (more than at MoMA) modernism breathed anew. The same thing happened this season when mega-mogul/puppet-master Larry Gagosian mounted two tremendous historical shows; one of late Picasso (that attracted over 100,000 people!), the other, a sprawling survey of Piero Manzoni. Carol Greene, Gavin Brown, Guild & Greyshkul, Matthew Marks, Barbara Gladstone, 303, Paula Cooper, and many other gallerists have done the same. The depth of the pockets is all very different between these galleries but the results have been thrilling.
In the meantime a new generation of a museum-going public and artists may be about to not see art they might otherwise benefit from. As MoMA tries to adjust all of its other problems it’s unclear how the woman issue will play out. As long as this is the case, as long as half the story is not told, more people will turn away from MoMA or see it merely as suffocating. I believe this is already beginning to happen. Artist Cheryl Donegan recently remarked, “Modernism should not be seen as Biblical; it should be seen as Talmudic.” Meaning the bible is static. Talmudic tradition (which is more Wikipedia than Encyclopedia) involves thousands of people making comments in the margins, debating issues and ideas, shaping tradition, changing it, and keeping it alive.
Hot on the heels of the SFMOMA website redesign comes the Hammer Museum’s new site.
It’s a knockout that weaves together many threads of programming – events, exhibitions, and the crucial multimedia that bind users to a site – into a cohesive experience that satisfys the needs of many kinds of visitors. Even better, they’ve embraced an openness to multimedia distribution and sharing so unusual among organizations of this type. A user can subscribe to the museum’s offerings through podcasts or RSS, embed video or audio into their own website, or post content to content sharing sites like Facebook. These are fundamentals in 2008 which a lot of museum sites still aren’t embracing.
The design team also came up with a minimal and elegant design that frames the museum’s programming transparently, throwing emphasis onto the many visuals the museum naturally generates through its events and exhibitions.
The Hammer also has crack crew making sure their site runs smoothly. Audio and video and images are everywhere and that’s a testament to all the little monkeys behind the scenes who are producing, cropping, editing, formatting, and posting this material.
Tip o’ the hat, folks.
I confess that when I first went to their site I was nervous it was going to be an all-Flash hell hole on the order of the epic disaster that is The Kitchen’s website: a nightmare of an interface, a buggy, error-filled disaster that probably halves attendance figures because content is so freakishly hard to find and so garishly designed. The Kitchen’s website is made even more painful because of how it stands in such stark contrast to their outstanding programming. Although I have many friends that work at that august institution, I have no idea what happened behind the scenes that led to their digital debacle. I’ll assume it has something to do with an overworked staff entrusting the project to developers who had absolutely no business making websites. It’s a total heap and needs to be redesigned completely and immediately for institutional solvency.
Anyway. Back to The Hammer.
It turns out that Flash is limited to the homepage and discreetly around the site in audio and video modules and an effective (if random) interactive Membership matrix.
Featured programs are listed on the homepage (although I wish it would say “Featured” since I thought that all I saw on the homepage was all that was at the museum (wrong)). They’ve nicely integrated video into the homepage (but didn’t allow it to go fullscreen). The full bleed background images switch as the user selects different featured programs – cute. Upcoming events are conveniently listed on the bottom. It works. It’s full of stuff but is coherent and offers a lot of info in a compressed way.
The real killer feature – and it’s simple – is the section that drops down from the main horizontal navigation bar when you roll over major section headers. Mouse over “Exhibitions” and before you click into the unknown, a helpful menu drops down to show you what to expect: exhibitions on view, etc. For each section the dropdown area shows you the most important stuff. It’s so good. They’ve really done a nice job of not forcing people to click, instead enabling users to find things simply by hovering.
I like how they list their current and upcoming exhibitions together on the Exhibtions landing page but it’s a bit obnoxious that in order to see more current exhibitions one has to click a tiny right arrow for the other thumbnails to slide in. Hammer: just have it drop to the next level. This type of hard-to-find-button-to-push-to-see-more-stuff won’t pass the mom test. Also I’m not sure if segregating the past exhibitions into its own area is necessary but it works well nonetheless.
The Programs section does what SFMOMA’s didn’t do: tag lots and lots of images to every single event. I know from firsthand experience that it’s annoying and it’s grunt work but it makes the section look visually delectable and encourages visitors to click on things they otherwise wouldn’t.
The Collections sections provides an overview but doesn’t even attempt to put anything online. Bummer, but they’ll have time to fundraise for that functionality in the future. In that case they can look to SFMOMA who did a great job. And the Met, of course, who does an even greater job (and from what I’ve heard will be launching some exciting new online collections soon).
The best part of the site is the “Watch and Listen” section which does what every museum should be doing: have a whole section fully and totally devoted to the gobs of audio and video that they are producing. The Hammer nails this section. First off, you can watch things right there on the website but you can also embed it into your site or subscribe to the podcast feed. SO BASIC BUT SO GOOD. Why can’t most every other place get this so right? Filtering works well but Search doesn’t. Just to see if search functionality actually functioned, I searched for words that I saw in the titles: “Lopate” and “Arbus” in my case. It said nothing could be found. Uh. Tsk tsk. Fix this. I also wish there was a browsable list of all the multimedia participants so I could just skim and see if my favorite artist was there.
I’m not sure why the section is called “News and Blogs.” How many blogs do they have? As far as I can tell it’s just one. And just call it “News.” I don’t think you have to drop the “B” word.
The user interface is really elegant and smartly prepared. Content flows intuitively and key information is presented immediately with secondary or extra information accessible through a mouse click. I would boost the overall site font size. Small looks sexy but it’s hard to read for a lot of (older) visitors.
All in all – this site is a real triumph and the team behind it should be complimented on an outstanding offering.
“Second Stage” is a music show from National Public Radio with a mission that differs from its manifold peers: it only plays musicians not signed to record labels. Producer Robin Hilton scours CDs sent from musicians all around the country and podcasts a few selected tracks each day. It’s a rare opportunity to listen to “great unknowns.”
Imagine the same thing happening in New York contemporary art museums. What if the Whitney, MoMA, P.S.1, or SculptureCenter did something similar to Second Stage and put on shows by living artists not already represented by a gallery. Not only would it be surprising, it would be shocking.
Chances are very high that all of the artists you see included in exhibitions of “emerging art” have professional gallery representation. There are exceptions, of course. But they pale in comparison to the dominant trend of showing artists with preexisting gallery affiliation.
So why is this?
I am not so cynical as to think that this is motivated out of any payola conspiracy. I won’t take the stance that curators are succumbing to payoffs of some form (although the temptation is certainly there) because I believe that most are honestly seeking to present the art that they like to the public in the hope of informing cultural narratives. And while I acknowledge that there are more galleries than ever before, there are also more unrepresented artists than ever before.
What I believe what accounts for the gallery-ization of emerging art programs at contemporary art museums are three things far more banal and, therefore, insidious: convenience, ease, and safety.
A gallery provides “one stop shopping” for a curator, complete with a roster of artists, a range of works for easy perusal, complete background information on the artists, and a whole staff dedicated to easing the bureaucratic burden of assembling a show. Galleries also mitigate risk, assembling collectors and reviews that make potential criticism easier to bear.
CONVENIENCE
It’s hard to find good art. With so much art out there and so little time, you as a curator will need to see as much as you can in the little time that you’ve got. So why beat the streets and the hassle of traveling from studio to studio on the off chance of seeing something great when you can simply go to the galleries and see so much more work in a far more comfortable context. No awkward talks with artists whom you’re not sure you’re into. No annoying follow-up conversations or calls. Just efficient examination. Get your list. Then do the visits. The tradeoff? You are ceding all the important work of discovering totally fresh, new artists to the gallerist who’s already done the scouting. And you’re doing artists without a gallery a disservice by forcing them through the arbitrary filter of representation. Just because they don’t have marketing muscle doesn’t mean they don’t have talent.
EASE
Putting together a show is hard. You’ve selected your pieces but now you’ve got to get them. And insure them. And then get images of the works. And captions. And credits. And then they have to be shipped. And then installed. And then shipped back. Curating is 20% brainwork and 80% grunt work. If you’re lucky you’ve got a curatorial assistant to do the heavy lifting. Regardless, it’s good for someone to help you out. And that’s, again, where the gallery comes in. Getting an artist into a museum is a big deal. It will increase the visibility of the artist and the gallery and can make a major impact on the gallery’s bottom line. Because it’s in their best interest, (most) galleries will be extraordinarily helpful in making your exhibiting of their artists as easy as possible by providing much of this aforementioned content. When you consider having to do this yourself or interfacing with a possibly disorganized artist more skilled in being creative than in being efficient, there’s another major incentive to go through the gallery system.
SAFETY
Criticism is hard. You’ve worked for months on your show and you unveil your choice to the critical eye of the press, the public, and your peers. If you get a good review – brilliant. No problem. But if you get a bad review, then what? Well, you can always play the “this-artist-is-ahead-of-his/her-time-and-the-avant-garde-is-always-offensive” card, but generally people want to be liked. The possible criticism of showing an artist with representation is a lot easier to bear knowing that somebody else also thinks this artist is good. Enter the gallery. The gallerist believes the artist is good. The artist’s collectors believe the artist is good. And since the gallery almost always has past good reviews of the artist, there’s proof that other critics also believe the artist is good. Simply put, a gallery makes it so that a curator doesn’t have to go out on a limb. Or if they are going out on a limb, it’s a much thicker branch – strengthened by a built-in group of admirers supplied by the gallery.
With the obvious benefits that galleries offer, it’s hard for a curator to go anywhere else. But just because it’s harder doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be done.
Convenience, ease, and safety breed laziness and curatorial laziness is rife right now among contemporary curators. The cost of this is not just to the artists omitted but also to the reputations of the curators themselves. At best they appear as cowards without strength of vision or an eye to the truly new. At the worst they sacrifice their integrity to the lure of market acclaim.
