Analyzing the architecture of museums, galleries, and artist studios through comparisons of tradition and taste
In the essay titled, “The Museum of Modern Art as Late Capitalist Ritual: An Iconographic Analysis,” by authors Carol Duncan and Alan Wallach, the reader acknowledges that museums tend to serve as “ceremonial monuments” based on their architecture and grandeur. Both authors compare the façades of museums to “temples, churches, and palaces” with large staircases and windows as well as labyrinth-like hallways and rooms. For example, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City embodies these characteristics with dozens of palatial steps and golden-colored railings to the entrances. The doors themselves are also gargantuan in size and detail.
In contrast, the authors discuss the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA), which has some shrine-like qualities in its interior, like elevated ceilings and windows but for the most part, the MOMA resembles other “megalithic” businesses in the area. The museum, which provides homage to the Bauhaus style with its post-World War II construction, remains simple and clean with its exterior and interior layouts. However, Duncan and Wallach state that the MOMA represents more individual choice and freedom because this is a major theme of museum. Rather than providing grand steps to the entrance, the authors note that transparent glass doors serve as “glass membranes,” between the museum and outside world—specifically from the busy streets of New York. In doing so, the museums invite all types of visitors rather than just the “regular and informed visitor.”
According to Duncan and Wallach, the idea of a museum appears to “affirm power and social authority of the patron class,” which still holds true today. Businesses and patrons who can pay and afford annual museum memberships often receive special privileges for private art viewings or events. In doing so, it appears that the upper class experiences a “higher taste” for art because they can view it from balconies where they are served champagne and listen to classical music. Rather than encourage the public to interact and present abstract works, the museum maintains traditional collections and perspectives.
With essays and performance scripts from Daniel Buren and Andrea Fraser, readers understand that museum patrons and sponsors appear disengaged with the artists as well as the public. The authors collectively mention how museums are similar to cemeteries with displaying artworks. In order to hang any paintings or framed works, these pieces are often mapped out, measured, leveled and then ready to hang. Such a process could be representative of gravestones and markers on the ground versus the wall.
Duncan and Wallach also address the issue of how museums must combine numerous artworks into one show to make sense and therefore, curators often reference “authoritative literary sources” to justify their decisions. In this neutral space, curators face several challenges while examining myths and traditions, various “sacred texts,” as well as the potential or retraction of corporate sponsorship. Both authors shed light that this task is not easy because there is so much content to take into consideration, which can also lead to “spatial disorientation” for the curators and museum viewers alike.
In the 1991 performance script titled, “May I Help You,” by artist Andrea Fraser arranges a makeshift exhibition space where individuals serve as docents for unsuspecting viewers that enter the space. According to the script, the docent repeatedly asks rhetorical questions to the viewer and continues speaking with barely any hesitation. Their own ideas are spewed out and often become random thoughts from a stream of consciousness. One word sparks another idea and the viewer appears confused without providing any real interaction.
At one point, the narrative becomes intriguing because the docent said, “Pleasant things are non-necessary things--that’s our inheritance.” In stating this, Fraser provides insight of how museum patrons and sponsors may view craftsman, artisans, and laborers as a lower class because they are more concerned with production rather than exposition. Fraser’s docent appears hypocritical when she notes how the museum encourages “prompt payments” and continued financial support, however, she enjoyed free admission for serving as a volunteer.
In another one of Fraser’s performance scripts titled, “Museum Highlights: A Gallery Talk,” she addresses the interior layout and exterior landscapes of a museum. By providing insight to sculptural gardens and how important it is to spend time with art, Fraser enlightens the reader about tradition and disorder. At one point in her script, Fraser notes, “If we do not possess art in a city, or beautiful sports in the city, we cannot expect to attract visitors to our home town.”
Based on essays from these authors, it appears that museums and galleries are not interested in chaos and disorder because it does not work well and create a coherent theme for an exhibition. For the museum in Pennsylvania, Fraser discusses how the area is full of laborers and technicians who come from an industrial and rugged region. By having them visit the museum with its neat carpet and displays, Fraser provides a contrast between “dirt and disorder” to a “spotless” scene.
In Daniel Buren’s 1970 essay titled, “The Function of the Studio,” the author addresses the concept of an artist’s studio as well as how the space is used and acknowledged. Buren mentions the clear distinction that society places on studios as rooms for “production” whereas museums are for “exposition.” The author notes how visiting an artist in his studio still provided just as much mystique and excitement as a museum despite the environment among tools, supplies, and other machinery.
By investigating essays written by Buren, Fraser, Duncan, and Wallach, the reader gains more insight on the decisions behind curating a museum space or gallery and how important production is to certain communities surrounding exhibition spaces. A docent in one of Fraser’s performance scripts states how there is “no discovery in auctions and museums” because at that point in an artist’s career, the excitement of the work fades because it no longer takes risks.
After a lengthy process to become part of a museum collection, an artist appears overanalyzed and familiar to the viewer. Instead of questioning: “Is this Art?” the artist’s retrospective becomes a collection of souvenirs and trinkets of their artmaking process. Furthermore, the essays note how “history records the mundane experience” by breaking down its form and understanding its visual language. In doing so, the viewer gains more training in taste because he or she becomes more cultured and sensitive. Since museums highlight traditional systems and propaganda, perhaps art appreciation becomes more of a learned phenomenon where a taste is acquired and cultivated rather than derivative from pure aesthetics.
No comments:
Post a Comment