Arts Blog Archive

Arts Blog Archive
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This blog will appear on a periodic basis to comment on topical issues in the arts. Readers wishing to respond may send their remarks to srichman@richmangalleries.com. Comments may be posted as appropriate, in the discretion of the website.

November 23, 2007

The Museum of Modern Art in New York is currently featuring the drawings of Georges-Pierre Seurat (1859-1891). Working primarily with conté crayon and Michallet paper, many of his images are reminiscent of grainy black and white photographs. Certainly subject matter--the ragpicker, for instance--he is like Atget, combing the city and its suburbs, capturing and isolating the ordinary and infusing it with depth and pathos. One of the curator's comments on the audioguide emphasized the lesson Seurat took from the alternation of light and dark to create a kind of luminescence around his figures, and applied to his color paintings, using contrasting color instead of black and white. Often he is content to suggest, rather than slavishly represent. The effect of the crayon and paper is to create a density and at the same time, subtlety. In the age of digital photography, there is much to be learned and applied from Seurat's experimentation.

September 23, 2007

The Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Museum of Rutgers University in New Brunswick is the debut venue for the photography collection of Anne and Arthur Goldstein, titled "A New Reality: Black-and-White Photography in Contemporary Art." Organized roughly by theme with introductory signage, it is an accessible exhibit of approximately 100 images from the 1960s through the present. Some names are very familiar: Cindy Sherman, Carrie Mae Weems, William Wegman, Joel-Peter Witkin, to name a few. Others are less familiar. Interestingly, are images from people more well known from other media--Ed Ruscha, for instance, more known his Pop Art paintings and in particular his word images, has a photograph in this exhibit of a can of Sherwin-Williams turpentine. It is part of the section on common objects, and shows the skill of a photographer to transcend what otherwise would be a snapshot into something richer and tonal. Portraiture, surrealism and abstract works aer also represented.

August 19, 2007

This past week I took in some of the major museums in San Francisco. The relatively new de Young Museum in Golden Gate Park was a particularly impressive experience. Its own photography collection hosted some new names to me from the early days of photography, and it is always interesting to note the commonality of subject over the course of 150 years--and a reminder that technique is not the end, but a means; subject does matter. On exhibit through September 23, 2007 was a series of images of Hiroshi Sugimoto, a Japanese photographer who exemplifies the philosopher-photographer. Among the more intriguing images were those made of dioramas from the Museum of Natural History as large format, black and white images; you almost believe he has photographed live Neanderthals at their encampment. Similarly, his royal portraits made from wax museum figures carry the integrity of contemporary portraits of political figures. It is remarkable how much is brought to bear in what in other, less experienced hands, would simply be derivative work.

July 15, 2007

The Philadelphia Art Museum is showing a collection of the work of American artist William Ranney (1813-1857). He is noted for his paintings of the pre-Civil War American West (with Native Americans notably absent) and his genre work of sporting scenes, mainly in the "wilds" of northern New Jersey. Of particular interest are his empathetic portraits of Mountain Men, the trappers of the frontier who were soon to go the way of the buffalo. The exhibit speaks of "forging a national identity." In viewing the diversified subject matter that interested Ranney, one finds insight into the roots of the artistic response to that identity. It is good to recall that not too many generations ago, vast portions of this country were wilderness and wild, with a raw beauty. In viewing the duck hunters and rail shooters in the northern New Jersey marshes of only 150 years ago, we are looking upon a place as alien, in its unspoiled beauty, as if it were another planet. There is an honest, if somewhat naive, perspective to his work, but it is the art of someone who was there and experienced.

July 4, 2007

The Associated Press reported today that in Wichita, Kansas, five shoppers stepped over a woman dying from a stab wound, laying on floor of a convenience store, and not one called 911 or sought to render assistance. Incredibly, one of the shoppers paused to take a picture of the woman with her cell phone camera. The incident apparently occurred June 23 but only now has been more widely reported. The event was captured on the store's security cameras.

On March 13, 1964--over forty years ago--Kitty Genovese was stabbed to death in Queens while her screams for help were heard and ignored by numerous witnesses.

Notwithstanding cries of "Never Again" following the Holocaust, the world sat by during the national genocides in Cambodia, Rwanda and other places. People wonder how such things happen on such a large scale, and yet people cannot even do the right thing on the small scale.

June 22, 2007

Much is made of "public art," and some cities feature their "subway art." The subte in Buenos Aires is one example I recently viewed, with each line featuring different themes. Closer to home, the waiting area for New Jersey Transit trains in New York's Penn Station features poems and etchings on the wall that focus on New Jersey. I did not observe anyone else looking at these marvelous illustrations or reading the poems, which include William Carlos Williams' famous haiku-like poem that begins "so much depends upon a red wheelbarrow . . . " In part of the waiting area, classical music was being broadcast. This wonderful artwork, there for those who care to look instead of lean against it, emphasizes once again why art matters. It transformed this section of the subterranean terminal into a museum wing.

May 21, 2007

Many are familiar with Brussel's famous Manneken Pis, but may not be as cognizant of Zagreb's own comparable sculpture, pictured here. This humorous interlude aside, Croatia boasts one of the premier sculptors of the twentieth century, Ivan Meštrović. His atelier features a broad cross-section of his work, from the religious to the secular. His Woman Beside the Sea (1926, carrara marble) reminds me of the opening line of Wallace Stevens' poem "The Idea of Order at Key West"--"She sang beyond the genius of the sea." She sits with her legs crossed, head down, her left hand resting lightly on her right thigh, as if listening to the sea respond to her own song.

May 7, 2007 Last week, in Chicago I visited both the Art Institute and the Contemporary Art Museum. The former featured two photography exhibits of interest, now concluded. One was titled "Far From Home: Photography, Travel and Inspiration, with works by Weston, Penn, Callahan, Evans and Frank, among others, of images made while they were traveling. The second was "When Color Was New," showcasing work by primarily William Christenberry, William Eggleston, Helen Levitt, Joel Meyerowitz, and Stephen Shore. At the same time, at the Museum of Contemporary Art, "MCA Exposed: Defining Moments in Photography 1967-2007" showed over fifty photographers and purported to show the "evolution" of photography. The contrast between the exhibits was striking. While I appreciate experimentation, much of the MCA exhibit's work seemed to focus more on technique, and less on subject. The images of Walker Evans remain contemporary and do not age; on the other hand, much of the "contemporary" work seems much more ephemeral. Substance, not procedure, ultimately will carry more freight, and current practitioners of the art would do well not to dismiss the lessons from the mid-twentieth century that the masters have to offer. Throwing large photographs of banal subjects cannot make up in size what they lack in subject matter. Big is not necessarily better, and weird for its own sake does not always make for a more interesting photograph that will withstand the test of time.

April 21, 2007 While visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art's current exhibitions on Venice and the Islam World, as well as Barcelona, I picked up the Taschen photography book Paris: Mon Amour in the Museum's gift shop. Over 225 black and white images from the nineteenth century through the 1970s, by a variety of photographers, document Paris. With the familiar works by familiar photographers are some that, at least I have not seen before. What is striking is that in a hundred years, these photographers managed to make the same city fresh, without resort to exaggerated technique or processing. In other words, it is the subject matter than continues to carry the day. Much of contemporary photography is obsessed with process, and it is worth revisiting the "classic" photographers to be reminded how powerful and effective subject matter in and of itself can be.
April 14, 2007 The storm over the defenestration of Don Imus and his offensive remarks is at the same time both straightforward and complex. Straightforward, because the use of the particular epithets did cross the border, by an apparent cultural consensus. Complex, because certain of those condemning Imus do not themselves hold the high road, and there is hypocrisy when certrain of the more outspoken critics have themselves in the past made offensive remarks directed at various groups. It also raises the question as to the propriety of comparable words and sentiments reflected in music, film and other visual and audio presentations. At the other end of the spectrum, what are the acceptable floors or ceilings of contemporary humor? Like Justice Stewart's definition of obscenity, we think we know offensive racist commentary when we hear it, and we certainly hear it in Imus's current remarks, but there have been others who have been given a pass for the same or worse. We will see if there is a more uniform condemnation following this affair.

March 27, 2007 A trial judge in New Jersey recently refused to dismiss a case against two photographers who photographed portions of people's exposed anatomy while the people were in public places. At issue is a New Jersey criminal statute making it a third degree crime to photograph intimate parts of people in situations in which they would not reasonably expect such areas to be photographed. I have paraphrased the statute. At least one legal scholar in the state has commented that the case should have been dismissed, as one can photograph someone running nude down the street without issue. Regardless of its outcome or one's views, the case again highlights the gray area facing street photographers. While this case may turn on issues of privacy and the statute, other issues--such as misappropriation and commercial use--are dependent upon the applicable law of the location, both here and abroad. March 18, 2007 I have just returned from a business trip to Buenos Aires, and managed to visit the National Fine Arts Gallery and the Museo de Arte Latinoamerica de Buenos Aires, and at the recommendation of the Moon Handbook, Galeria Rubbers. The latter, founded in 1957 to feature Latin American artists, had an interesting trio represented: Andrea Fernandez, Margarita Garcia Gaure and Chloe Henderson. It was Fernandez's work that I found most intriguing--a series of mixed media works combining photographs of a much reduced woman on backgrounds of white water and sky. At times perched on horizon, vanishing beneath the water, or otherwise, they are interesting both aesthetically and thematically. They, and the other featured artists, can be viewed at the Gallery's website, http://www.rubbers.com.ar.
January 28, 2007 Opening yesterday at the Princeton University Art Museum in Princeton, New Jersey, is a small but focused exhibit titled "Treasures from Olana: Landscapes by Frederic Edwin Church." Church, identified with the Hudson River School, is known not only for his American landscapes, but for his evocative works from South America. His attention to light and detail is well on display in this exhibit. Photographers can learn from painters, of course, but even the nineteenth century landscape painters remain relevant in their ability to emphasize the very transcendent and transcendental qualities that light brings to the same landscape painted or photographed by others. Though obvious, it is often overlooked, and the value of an exhibit such as this is to emphasize the power present behind these simple truths.
January 21, 2007 Two photographers are featured in just-opened exhibits at the International Center for Photography in New York. They are Martin Munkacsi and Henri Cartier-Bresson, and the focus of the exhibits are many images that would fall under the rubric of street photography, either directly or by analogy. In other words, they are images that capture Cartier-Bresson's "decisive moment." A few months ago an article appeared in one of the national photography magazines about the "war on photographers," and the difficulty that legitimate photographers--both as journalists and amateurs, and otherwise--face in light of many new security measures. It is interesting to reflect on the impact the current attitude towards photography will affect the ability of new photographers who favor this kind of street photography to emerge and succeed. January 7, 2007 The Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Art Museum in New Brunswick, New Jersey, part of Rutgers University, is a fine university museum. Not trying to be all things to all people, it has an American art collection that includes works by Albert Bierstadt and John Frederick Kensett, an interesting "teaching" collection of European paintings and a Modernist section of European and American artists. However, its signature collection in Russian art, as well as a substantial exhibit of non-conformist art from the Soviet Union. Presently it features a special photography exhibit, "Two Masters of Lithuanian Photography: Antanas Sutkus and Rimantas Dichavicius. While exhibiting relatively few images of each, the exhibit captures in extraordinary depth the work of these two. Sutkus in particular, for me, makes the more powerful statement in his direct images of Lithuanian people that invites comparison with August Sander, the German photographer who also sought to capture common and contemporary life in his native land. Among the compelling images are a series that focus on hands; one, titled (at least in this exhibit) "Tenderness," shows a child in soft focus gripping an adult hand, her check against it. Images with political overtones are not pedantic or didactic; they speak for themselves, as in one in which men and women of varying ages show tight, forced expressions belying the optimistic images of Brezhnev and Lenin on the banners that are above and behind them. The Victoria and Albert Museum website also features five images of Sutkus, three of which were also displayed at the Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Art Museum. That page contains "Province, Dzukija, 1969," titled in the Zimmerli exhbit "Going to the Mill," an image with both the mundane and mysterious in it. Four men are seated in a wagon, apparently on the way to the mill; another walks beside the wagon. A pair of crutches lies on top of canvas sacking. Some distance back, a silhouetted black figure crosses the street at the moment the image is made. Two of the seated men look at the photographer; the other three ignore, or are oblivious to, him. Two of them have their hands clasped; given the other part of the series, Sutkus seems interested in the expressive nature of hands in a variety of contexts. The range of these images gives local visitors a sense of the profound work of this significant photographer. For more, also visit the FotoArt Festival site. December 25, 2006 The New York Times has published its "Year in Pictures" for 2006. The cover of the section depicts fifteen pictures of an American soldier in Iraq being wounded, pulled to safety by his comrade, treated, and finally, hugging a soldier while surrounded by other soldiers. The first image appears to capture the wounded soldier when he is first hit. As with Robert Capa's image of the Spanish soldier being shot ("Loyalist Militiaman at the Moment of Death, Cerro Muriano, September 5, 1936"), we are struck by the surrealism of actually witnessing the reality of death, or near death, and understanding that this is not staged. This is not fiction. We know we are seeing the split instant between life and death. We also know that a photographer is witnessing this and taking the image. (In this case, it is Joao Silva of the New York Times). The narrative inside identifies the soldiers and indicates the wounded man survived. Susan Sontag's Regarding the Pain of Others considers the question of empathy and conscience, and our ability to react to the bombardment of images such as this. At what point does the real become synthetic? At what point do we lose the human to the artistic? Where are the boundaries between factual representation and iconography? If this soldier had been killed, would the image be acceptable?
December 17, 2006 The Grounds for Sculpture holds an annual exhibit called Focus on Sculpture. My image to the right, of Alison Lapper Pregnant, was accepted for inclusion. The exhibit will open January 13, 2007. The Grounds for Sculpture was founded through the leadership efforts of sculptor J. Seward Johnson, Jr., on the former New Jersey State Fairgrounds in an industrial area of Hamilton Township, New Jersey, near Princeton and Trenton. The annual photography exhibit presents interesting artistic problems, in which artists in one medium attempt to capture, represent, and yet be creative with, art from another medium. The obvious creative effort here included choice of angle; I was unable to capture her full body, but like the expressiveness and power of this angled shot. Other factors include filtering effects, cropping, inclusion (or exclusion) of other compositional details, and so forth. I have made several images, from different vantage points, of this sculpture, and opted for this one because if fully captured her facial expression and her dignity, and as a modern expression of our times, she is set off against an older, more traditional building. It has been pointed out that in Trafalgar Square, Admiral Nelson is missing an arm, and this sculpture provides a feminine counterpoint to that Nelson's Column. This sculpture of Alison Lapper, made by sculptor Marc Quinn, was unveiled September 15, 2005.
December 10, 2006 I wonder at the curators in art museums, and about their particular preferences are. Many seem to be uninterested in the works around them. Or has familiarity bred contempt, given the time they have had to view each work. On occasion, though, we see them contemplating a work, as here. It might be interesting to hear from them on the audio guides and in the catalogs. Who has spent more time with art? And who has overheard more of the comments of the crush of visitors? The current exhibit of Spanish painting, from El Greco to Picasso, at the Guggenheim Museum in New York is spectacular, thoughtful, overwhelming, and profound. Most intriguing were the bodegones, the still life paintings of "pantry" items, that reflect a continuity across the centuries of artistic fascination with the commonplace and the ability to present it uncommonly.
November 23, 2006 In my book The Bridges of New Jersey I explore the notion of the bridge as structural art, a concept developed elsewhere by Professor David P. Billington. It is interesting that the Ponte Vecchio in Florence was designed by a Florentine painter. In today's world, it is increasingly difficult, if not almost impossible, to be a true "Renaissance person," adept in a variety of endeavors. Whether one ultimately succeeds, or rises to the top, seems less relevant, though, than having a receptive mind and seeking to function in divergent forums. In an era when technique seems to take precedent over substance, a return to Renaissance thinking, and attention to subject matter, might well have a place.
November 12, 2006 Not too long ago the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York acquired a relatively small painting by Duccio di Buoninsegna titled "Madonna and Child." In Florence and Siena, of course, one feasts on Duccio's works. Thirteenth century works are prevalent, to the point of overdose, if one is not careful. The Met's director, Philippe de Montebello, describes the museum's acquisition as "a work of sublime beauty." That is certainly true not only of that work, but of the ones on display in Siena. One sees not simply religious iconography, but an almost modern capture of mother and child. Duccio's Madonnas tilt their heads in the same direction, and have the same hazel-brown eyes, and expressions of intent absorption, directly aimed at the children in their arms. One can only marvel and reflect upon this essential relationship that transcends some eight hundred years in physical form, and yet remains astonishingly current.
October 29, 2006 Recently in a letter to the editor (I believe in the Financial Times of London) a man described his experience in the Guggenheim Museum in New York. He wrote that he was sitting on one of the benches in one of the exhibit areas, but due to jet lag, was dozing off. He would awake from his still position and wondered whether other visitors to the museum considered him "art." The brief letter raises interesting questions as that fundamental question of what art is, and when the "Emperor's New Clothes" syndrome is in play. Perhaps more intriguing than what other visitors thought, was the man's reaction himself, in considering himself to be "art." Sometimes the line between what is real and what is not is not so clear. What is that Zen parable? About the master who was not sure he was a master dreaming of a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming it was a master?
October 15, 2006 In Miami this weekend I passed the "Arlington-Miami" cemetery. Its "tombstones" reportedly contain the name of those killed in the war in Iraq. Row upon row of the identically shaped markers contrast dramatically with the dark green grass. It was striking, and arresting, to see, the force of the pattern set off by the individuality of the names and ages.
October 8, 2006: The National Museum of Health and Medicine is hosting an exhibit titled "Scarred for Life: Mono-Prints of Surgical Scars.” It is composed of mono-prints made from scars. One, for example, shows a bluish hand print with only four fingers; the fifth was lost in a band-saw accident. The website http://nmhm.washingtondc.museum/news/news.html for the museum reports on the exhibit; I have not seen it in person. The New York Times review of the exhibit http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/04/arts/design/04scar.html?_r=1&oref=slogin suggests this is a descendent of "body art" of the Sixties and Seventies, but the principle artist, Ted Meyer, disagrees, and sees his work as more about healing than injury. Is it important to publicize the personal pain and scarring of others? Yes. Is it art, no matter how much one discusses technique? I'm not so sure. It is something, but whether ultimately it is deemed "art" will depend upon time.
October 1, 2006 The New York Times reports in a story dated September 28, 2006 that in Texas a fifth grade teacher took her class to the Dallas Museum of Art. When one student spoke of seeing nudity on statues and in other art, the parents complained. The teacher, Sydney McGee, has now been suspended with pay. I have just gone on the Vatican website that features the Sistine Chapel, and looked at the Creation of Adam. There he is, nude and fully exposed. One has to wonder what the Frisco School Board would have to say about that. 'Would they ban children from visiting the Vatican? It is hard to know which is more frightening--the attitude behind this action, or that fact that a single student's complaint carries so much more weight than those in support. What is staggering is that this was a trip to, presumably, the premier institution for visual arts in a major city. Shame on the Frisco Independent School District.