Oddities and Attractions: A Museum Travelogue at the Whitney, Met, Neue, NYPL, Quebec's Museum of Civilisation and Montreal's Beaux-arts

At a question and answer session, the visiting juror said - with emphasis - that her venue would rarely curate a travelogue exhibit. You can guess why:  too many 'I was here,' too many places rather than art styles, too many trifles and oddities about weird cultures, and perhaps too many selfies. 

But what if the travelogue was about oddities in art museums? Not so much a comparison of current shows, but rather what makes these museums attractions for the curious mind.
 
Considerations for the curious mind
I imagine curators must struggle to get beyond art-for-art's sake: showing the outrageous for the sake of being outrageous; reflecting upon the glory of the artist as enfant terrible; a journey into the past; or maybe engaging the audience with a playful intent. 

I'm helped along when curators put their thoughts onto wall tags (and nowadays putting them online as well). The following images are from a half dozen or so shows I recently saw. This selection could be taken as advice to go forth and see these shows but it is more about how we can re-energize the exhibits here -- whether 'here' is in San Diego or elsewhere -- and bring this playfulness into the work we exhibit. Imagine the concept of 'portraiture':  it could become a tired framework for exhibits; or, it could be reimagined and compel us to think what is was that led us to think that category of presentation had become dull.

Animation and Dance at Musées de la civilisation (Museum of Civilization)
Quebec's Museum of Civilization was a different kind of adventure. In one area, the imaginative and provocative animated short films of the National Film Board of Canada (winner of several Acacemy Awards) was clustered into several areas, illustrated by models of various materials, drawings and odd sorts of camera work. Frame X Frame was a glorious exhibit in terms of the variety of subject matter, techniques and the opportunity to watch the films unfold. It would have been far more difficult for full length features.

Clay figures / Objects for an animation

Somehow, the short films seemed current even if the pictured imagery was from another era. 

Lipsett's short (Very Nice, Very Nice - see below) is spell-binding. The online inventory of many of these shorts allow us to engage with these materials,

From Wikipedia:  "While working at the National Film Board, Lipsett collected pieces of audio from the waste bins and pieced them together as a hobby. When his friends heard the product of this they suggested that he add images to it. The result was this film. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Short Subject, Live Action Subjects in 1962. Despite not winning the Oscar, this film brought Lipsett considerable praise from critics and directors. Stanley Kubrick was one of Lipsett's fans, and asked him to create a trailer for his upcoming movie Dr. Strangelove. Lipsett declined Kubrick's offer. Kubrick went on to direct the trailer himself; however, Lipsett's influence on Kubrick is clearly visible in the released trailer."

Arthur Lipsett / Very Nice, Very Nice (1961) can be seen on YouTube

In another area of the Museum is an equally compelling exhibit about contemporary dance:  Rebel Bodies. The goal of the museum exhibition was intended to "demystify contemporary dance." Instead, I was entranced -- to be more exact, I was mystified. The variety of approaches was splashed on numerous large screens, exhibiting both the dance and the choreographer's commentary. The online resources are hard to locate, but Victor Quijada's experience and innovative dance, the RubberBand Dance Group expands upon his philosophy of dance in Rebel Bodies.

Rebel Bodies -Victor Quijada

Culling the Collection to Consider a Puzzle:  The (new) Whitney Museum of American Art's America is Hard to See

The Whitney pulled art from its collection of 'American' art (artists who were born in America and/or did their art in America) and organized it in its new multi-storied building. The story of American art from the beginnings of the 20th century are organized in chapters, such as Forms Abstracted, Music-Pink and Blue, Free Radicals, Scotch Tape and the like.

From the Whitney website: The title [of the inaugural exhibit], America Is Hard to See, comes from a poem by Robert Frost and a political documentary by Emile de Antonio. Metaphorically, the title seeks to celebrate the ever-changing perspectives of artists and their capacity to develop visual forms that respond to the culture of the United States. It also underscores the difficulty of neatly defining the country’s ethos and inhabitants, a challenge that lies at the heart of the Museum’s commitment to and continually evolving understanding of American art.

The new building provides an opportunity to revisit those many niches in which artists have expressed their visions. The historical romp through the decades provides enough material in each chapter to give the viewer a sense of time, place and reflection. The availability of docents on several floors adds to the organizational presentation of this pluralistic enterprise. Most of the works on exhibit can be seen at Whitney online.

Viewing an exhibit drawn from the images of individuals with AIDS; see the 2013 exhibit I, You, We

The presentation of social activism that runs through the Whitney Museum's exhibit reinforces the artist's ideology - for better or maybe, not.  Below, the Metropolitan Museum's China/Asia exhibit takes a more informed approach to the ideology of the times. (See discussion below.)

Room with 3 videos (left) / Christopher Wool / Untitled (Run Dog Run) (R) with photographer inside room shown at left

A place to view what fascinates the viewer

Jonathan Borofsky / Running People (on the wall) - and a place to relax and sit

Upending the Stereotype and Confronting the Academic: The Metropolitan Museum of Art's exhibit - China, Through the Looking Glass

The opening curatorial remarks in the wonderfully juxtaposition of Chinese antiquities and Western high-fashion designers confronts the facile condemnation of Orientalism. While national and ethnic stereotypes truncate our understanding and appreciation of other cultures, such stereotypes can be re-interpreted and played with -- as a commentary on way in which we fail to understand one another and, yet, the possibility of figuring out how to reconfigure the pathways behind these stereotypes. (Compare this approach to the Whitney Museum's presentation of art by social activists -- see above.)

As an undergraduate at Columbia College in the early 1960s, I enjoyed the class Edward Said taught on the works of Jonathan Swift. I lost track of Said's work and was surprised to find his book on Orientalism referenced at the beginning of the Met's China exhibit:  "Said interprets Orientalism as a Eurocentric worldview that essentializes [ie. narrow stereotype] Eastern peoples and cultures as a monolithic other." The curator's notes argue that this exhibit of juxtapositions provides a doorway into rethinking the West's encounter with the East - a more positive and flexible one.  As a cultural anthropologist who addresses such stereotypes in an introductory course, my personal view was that this pathway is a productive one for looking the "other" through a multi-faceted lens and realizing that we, too, are the "other."

Antiquity (left) versus high fashion (right)

The Metropolitan Museum China exhibit:  "The exhibition features more than 140 examples of haute couture and avant-garde ready-to-wear alongside Chinese art. Filmic representations of China are incorporated throughout to reveal how our visions of China are framed by narratives that draw upon popular culture, and also to recognize the importance of cinema as a medium through which to understand the richness of Chinese history."

I could not get the Buddha's image out of my mind (image on right)

One can't help but appreciate how an image of a spiritual force in a culture (Buddha) can be visualized in a multitude of ways without provoking anger and violence -- unlike the inability of other cultures to allow such visualizations.

New York Public Library: A novel way to reinvent a photographic collection
Most of the photographic exhibit is drawn from the large collection held by the New York Public Library. What brings additional life to the exhibit (beyond the historical materials) are two interactive exhibits: the first is the novel entryway where the attendees become part of a constantly changing framework seen in the large mirror hanging above (i am in the public eye); the second is an interactive display that aggregrates the activities on those who inhabit Broadway.

i am in the public eye (the text is in reverse on the floor and reversed when one looks into the mirror hanging above)

Depending on where one stands below - whether in the area framed by the mirror or off to the side - and where the attendees pass by below the mirror, there is an ever-changing composition with some looking up at the mirror, others wandering unawares below, some simply looking and others, like myself, captivated by the area seeking a novel place to photograph the composition.  That frame of mind is captured by the text on the floor.

On Broadway:  "The interactive installation ON BROADWAY represents life in the 21st century city through a compilation of images and data collected along the 13 miles of Broadway that span Manhattan. The result is a new type of city view, created from the activities of hundreds of thousands of people." On the left: a slice of the moving set of images with data flow represented in bands of color; on the right: by pressing the lower row of images, the upper portion enlarges to enlarge the set of images surrounding the individuals on the lower row.

The On Broadway exhibit seems to attract less attention likely as a result of the intense amount of information presented. Hopefully, this effort to capture sense of the environment (in this case, Broadway, NYC) is replicated in other places. I can imagine each city have an information map that says "You are here" and adjacent to finding where you are in the simplified map that we all need to orient ourselves in a new place is this blooming, buzzing organized data flow that is THIS city (ie. whatever city one is standing in) - an immediacy effect of experiencing where you are in digital data.

Juxtapositions of form and content:  Defining the human perspective at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts 

The Montreal Museum of Fine Arts' collections range from archaeology and world cultures to the decorative arts to photography and design. The Museum boasts as having one of the first encyclopedic collections in North America. However, what struck me among the expected and usual fine art objects, were two items that bracketed my experience of walking the museum; these were startling in very different ways.

First was Tony Matelli's Old Enemy, New Victim. It seemed repugnant. And it was, and it is.

Matelli uses silicon and yak hair to create a hyper-realist act of violence. The artist says, "I am interested in culture, not nature." But, we might wonder, what is the difference? Is the only difference yak hair? 

Tony Matelli / Old Enemy, New Victim

On further reflection, I am less repelled by Matelli's sculpture when I consider fabulous paintings such as Judith Slaying Holofernes by Artemisia Gentileschi or images from antiquity such as the Death of Pentheus, torn apart by Bacchantes on the wall of the House of the Vettii in Pompeii. Then there are the horrors of real historical figures such as the 15th century Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia who impaled thousands of subjects. 

Is this Matelli's not-so-subtle message about humanity? Worthy of many a conversation.

Looking outside through glass art and glass window, looking out from the museum into the city

The Artist Prank: Butting heads with the walls that define art history

The Neue Gallerie showcases Gustav Klimt's painting, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I (aka Woman in Gold). But travel upstairs and find the artist prank that preceded Marcel Duchamp's Fountain by about five years. 

Not as well known, and upstairs from the Klimt exhibition, is an equally interesting exhibition. The Neue juxtaposes German and Russian artists from the early 1900s: Russian Modernism: Cross-Currents of German and Russian Art, 1907-1917. I would have liked the Neue to have posted images from this exhibition online. (Other holdings are viewable online.)  Still, one of the curators' notes stays with me. The collaboration of Natalia Goncharova and Mikhail Larionov was a benchmark worth knowing. They formed a rejectionist (of Western art) group known as The Donkey's Tail. Here we find rebellion against the perceived confines of Western art. However, the thrust of the Russian pranksters appears to have been aimed at finding a truer Russian narrative in their paintings rather than to question the very notions of art as set out by the Dada-ists, the readymades and singular Fountain of Marcel Duchamp several years later.

Note about the Donkey's Tail from InCoRM:  “The name, “The Donkey’s Tail”, derived from a famous Parisian hoax in which the art critic, Roland Dorgelès and Fréderic Gérard, proprietor of the Montmartre café, Le Lapin Agile, had painted a lurid red and blue seascape by tying a paintbrush to a donkey’s tail. The work was exhibited as Sunset Over the Adriatic under the name of Joachim Raphale Baronali at the Salon des Indépendants of 1905 apparently without comment. In 1910, Ilia Repin recounted the incident of the donkey’s tail in his review of Izdebsky’s International Exhibition and used the term as a critical epithet for the modernist work on show. Shortly afterwards, the Russian press satirized the Knave of Diamonds exhibition by publishing a cartoon of a donkey painting with its tail, with the cynical caption: “Off home already after looking round just one hall. Don’t be shy. Get your sixty kopeks worth and next year come again. Then we will change the name and under the sign of ‘the Donkey’s Tail’ we will show you the way we paint our pictures.” In adopting this name for his group, Larionov beat the critics with their own stick.”

What with all the fanfare about artist pranks, we are reminded of how artists continue to chafe against the prevailing normative styles. Even Gustav Klimt took issue with the then prevailing perspective of Historicism and his joining forces with the Vienna Secessionist group: "Secession artists were concerned .  .  .  with exploring the possibilities of art outside the confines of academic tradition. They hoped to create a new style that owed nothing to historical influence."

Since we are all embedded in history, and we stand on the shoulders of those who come before us, we might ask why pranks and why rebellions? Is it that the guards at the gates of social institutions (galleries, museums, libraries, auction houses) play a dual role? To celebrate and curate the artistic literacy of the past and contemporary favored few AND to weed out the noise: that's reason enough for pranks and rebellions.

At the Neue Gallery: No, that's not the REAL Woman in Gold, that's upstairs where no photos are allowed

The museum travelogue ends; what's left for the artist to do?

I'll pass on recipes for commercial success, getting known (marketing), and becoming the next Klimt, Picasso, Warhol or the next child wonder. I'll also pass on the cliches of finding one's inner artist or the center of true artistic beingness. We all do these things, myself included.

Instead, I am amazed at all the places I visited and what I discovered (re-discovered) for myself. These are illustrations of the artist wormholes that remind us of the unfolding adventures still left to explore. 

Make voyages! Attempt them... there's nothing else. Tennessee Williams

100 Artists, 100 Years: Celebrating San Diego Art at OMA

The Oceanside Museum of Art is exhibiting works from artists who belong(ed) to The San Diego Museum of Art Artists Guild. The time span is 100 years and 100 artists have been honored.

One of those artists, Mark-Elliott Lugo, selected the works included in this exhibit, drawing on his extensive experience in curating art exhibits in San Diego as well as being an artist and an art writer. 

Lugo admits to have a fascination with the dark - whether as darkness in color/luminance or in thematic content. That edgy quality is evident in his selection of Holly Weston's (below). 

Mark-Elliott Lugo noted that "This is the largest exhibition ever staged by OMA and as far as we know the largest featuring San Diego-area artists."

Joe Nalven:  I've been involved in many exhibitions, but not nearly as many as you have. Was there anything special about this one?

Mark-Elliott Lugo:  Putting this exhibition together in such a short amount of time (roughly three months) took everything I had in terms of physical stamina, knowledge about art and the art community, organizational skills, connections, installation experience, and judgment ("eye") as an artist." 

Daniel Foster, Director at OMA, noted that this exhibit builds on recent exhibits focusing on San Diego artists. Looking to the future, Robert L. Pincus will be jurying Artist Alliance at the Museum, 2015, July 11 - October 25, from submissions by OMA's member affiliate group Artist Alliance.

Pincus will also be co-curating History as it Happened: San Diego Art Seen Through the Critical Writings of Robert L. Pincus, Novemvber 21, 2015 - Mid April, 2016, with Tara Centybear and Executive Director Daniel Foster.

Mark-Elliott Lugo / Working on the exhibit presentation (Upper) / Displayed art include: 
Rhoda LeBlanc Lopez / Large Tree-Sized Planter, c.1960, Stoneware ceramic, 24 x 20 in., Collection of Gerald L. Thiebolt
Jackson Woolley, Bonus / 1967, Polyester resin and paint on wood, 19 ½ x 40 x 4 in., Collection of Courtney Cutter and Marc Sagal
Erik Gronborg / VØLUND, 1962, Bandsaw-carved wood timbers and black paint, 40 x 33 in
Portrait of the artist (Lower)

Holly Weston / Solace, 1998

I wondered how this project evolved and continues to evolve. I asked Angelika Villagrana and Jody Abssy, two of the coordinators of this project, about this exhibit and the book (forthcoming).

Angelika Villagrana:  When we started this project about 5 years ago, our objective was to publish a book celebrating 100 important Guild artists since its inception in 1915.  It took us a long time discovering and going through all the membership rosters and judging artists against a set of criteria for inclusion in this book.  Last Fall, Daniel Foster approached us with the idea of having an exhibition at the Oceanside Museum of Art for the 100 Artists whom we had identified.  All of a sudden there was very little time to meet with artists, families of deceased artists, collectors, galleries, institutions, etc. to get them to loan us the work. We had to put the book project on the back burner.  Now that the OMA exhibition is up, we will start working on the book project again and hope to get it published by the Fall.

Jody Abssy: There are 100 artists in the exhibition with about 125 objects on display. The number of architects who were Guild members surprised us. All 10 will appear on a video/ loop/ power point. When some of the pioneer artists' work was not available we were able to include some more contemporary artists. Our original intent was to publish a book which would bring the Guild's past into sharper focus for the public now and in the future.

Richard Becker / The Tot (Follow Your Dreams: Hanging Heart Spot Companion) 
Casts: 1 of 8 and Artist Proof 3, 2015, Stainless steel, 32 x 11 x 11 in.

Oceanside Museum of Art   704 Pier View Way, Oceanside, CA 92054   www.oma-online.org   100 Artists, 100 Years Exhibition: 1915-2015   April 18 - July 26, 2015   Opening Reception:    Saturday, April 25, 2015, from 6:00- 8:00pm   Curator's Walk:    Wednesday, May 27, 2015   Complimentary for OMA members, $10 for nonmembers   Contact:  Raziah Roushan for exhibit information                     raziah@oma-online.org

Pasha Turley / Inside-Out from The Pollution Series, intaglio (c. 1975), 32 x 40 inches (Left); 
Renata Spiazzi / Relationship, 16 x 7 ¾ x 3 ½ in., Memorial, 9 ¾ x 12 ½ x 5 ½ in., and Family, 13 x 7 x 7 in.,
all from the “Perfect Union Series," 1970, Polyurethane foam (Right)

Joe Nyiri, Bridges of Chicago No. 2, 1975, Aluminum, copper, and bronze 48 x 75 1/2 x 28 in.,
and Bridges of Chicago No. 1, 1974, Aluminum, copper, and bronze, 55 1/2 x 39 x 39 in.

William Gambini, Peg, 2002, Wood, canvas, and paint, 16 x 21 in. (Left) 
William Gambini, Untitled, 1999, Wood and paint, 50 x 8 ¾ x 8 ¾ in. (Right) 
 Both from the collection of Mark-Elliott Lugo

The 100 Artists

Martha Alf, Eleanor Antin, Anni Baldaugh, John Baldessari, Russell Baldwin, Belle Baranceanu, Richard Becker, Harry Bertoia, Carroll Parrott Blue, Leon Durand Bonnet, Rex Brandt, Maurice Braun, Capt. James Brown, Manuelita Brown, Charles Cristadoro, Joyce Cutler-Shaw, Dan Dickey, Phil Dike, John Dirks, Manny Farber, Arline Fisch, Jane Fletcher, Lorenzo Foncerrada, Russell Forester, Faiya Fredman, Charles Fries, William Gambini, Henry Lord Gay, Ken Goldman, Ethel Greene, Harold Gregor, Erik Gronborg, Thomas Grondona, Ruth Hayward, Fred Holle, Donal Hord, James Hubbell, Marjorie Hyde, Everett Gee Jackson, Frank Jones, Kwan Yee Jung, Bill Kelly, Dong Kingman, Sheldon Kirby, Alice Klauber, Doug Knutsen, Emil Kosa, Jr., Arthur Lavine, Leslie Lee, Beatrice Levy, Monty Lewis, Paul Lingren, Martha Longenecker, Rhoda Lopez, Mark-Elliott Lugo, Kathleen Marshall, Cliff McReynolds, Ivan Messenger, Alfred Mitchell, Hiroshi Miyazaki, Richard Allen Morris, Joe Nyiri, Christine Oatman, Robert Perine, James Tank Porter, Wilhelmina Pulsifer, Rob Wellington Quigley, Svetozar Radakovich, Barney Reid, Charles Reiffel, Richard Requa, Gail Roberts, Margaret Rocle, John Rogers, Ilse Ruocco, Lloyd Ruocco, Lyne T. “Bud” Shackelford, Lenore Simon, Robert W. Snyder, Renata Spiazzi, Harry Sternberg, Jean Swiggett, Mario Torero, Elliot Torrey, Sherman Trease, Raúl Trejo, G. Pasha Turley, Herbert B. Turner, Albert R. Valentien, Anna Valentien, Holly Weston, Michael Wheelden, Eileen Whitaker, Frederic Whitaker, Kay Whitcomb, Olaf Wieghorst, Guy Williams, Walter Haase Wojtyla, Ellamarie Woolley, Jackson Woolley

Postscript: The 101st Artist/Commentary on art in digital media - a personal perspective
While the 100 Artists from SDMAAG have been selected, and while a rewarding exhibition has been installed, I would like to add a flight of fancy about what might be included at some point. This postscript is not intended to argue with the selection of this exhibit, but to point the way to including the revolution in technology infusing almost every point of our lives -- from transportation, to communication, to health, to agriculture and industry and, yes, even to art. Several of the artists in SDMAAG have done well in making the 100 year history of the organization meaningful in the 21st century.

Notably, there are two artists who have drawn on new digital technology in this exhibit:  Guy Williams' untitled piece from the "Blueprint" series (1991) and Faiya Fredman's piece "Yellow Tulip 2" (2007) which was created when the artist was in her mid-eighties.

Perhaps it is possible to further expand on this connection to the digital revolution - after all, artists frequently love to consume the new. Here are some further examples in this vein.

Dennis Paul Batt, one-time Trustee of the San Diego Museum of Art and one-time President of SDMAAG, instituted a democratic selection of Best in Show. 

Greg Klamt, a digital artist - or a fantasy artist working in digital media, had his work, An Instant Past, voted in this new process as Best in Show (2002, SDMAAG Juried Exhibition). Klamt's music is an excellent companion to his fantasy imagery. 

Although Renata Spiazzi, selected as one of the 100 Artists/100 Years exhibit, is a self-described digital artist, her work selected is a part of her long trajectory in the arts - in this case, sculptural work rather than the fractal imagery she has been working in for the past two decades.

Both Klamt and Spiazzi were featured in separate chapters in Going Digital: The Practice and Vision of Digital Art (2005, Thompson, now Cengage Press). 

Digital art (or contemporary art in digital media) may be considered 'just a toolset' that encompasses photography, print, painting, and now sculpture (3D printing). All of these digital media can be conceived and implemented in non-digital media; however, fractals -- while appearing as painting or print -- is a mathematical algorithm that is exploited in often fantastical imagery. The practice is generally at a computer placing oneself at a distance from the actual object being created. The ability to work rapidly with the ability to undo previous steps resembles a miracle to those working in non-digital media. The collage/montage sensibility is quite natural in a layered and blended digital file. I expect that the last sentence is totally meaningless to those unfamiliar with digital media - which is like explaining sight to the  unsighted. So, 'just a toolset' is a very imperfect description of what art is in digital media - except when it is reduced in activities such as airbrushing photographs for commercial advertising.

As SDMAAG continues exhibiting, hopefully the members who are practicing in digital media are more fully incorporated with equal delight with their digital work as the 100 Artists in this exhibit.

Buhm Hong Awarded Digital Art Guild Prize at SDAI 2015 International Exhibit

The 53rd San Diego Art International Exhibition for 2015 awarded Buhm Hong the Digital Art Guild Prize. 

As one walks into the SDAI entryway, about to descend to the lower level gallery, one senses the presence of Hong's memory-like animation on the wall space immediately across the open space.

It is a challenge to present the animation with the ambient lighting. Nevertheless, the imagery tugs at one's curiosity. Here are two samples of the animated flow.

Buhm Hong / Panoramic still from animation:  Floating Dreams
medium : Cinema 4D, HD projectors, media player, speaker; size : 1920 X 1080 (pixel); date : 2014

Joe Nalven: I imagine that most viewers will stand in amazement, wondering how this video came into being. Would you share your process with the readers?

Buhm Hong: Let me talk about the process of making a video work 'Floating Dreams' briefly. I took photographs of the wallpapers from the houses of redevelopment areas and used for the backgrounds of the video. The lights of window frames were made by a 3D program 'Cinema 4D' that simulates the movements of the lights and the shapes  of the houses.

Thinking of abandoned and vanished towns and houses, I tried to draw the living memories within. I scanned the drawings and through the post productions in computer, they appear and disappear with moving lights.

In this exhibition, I projected to a wall of the gallery space. I aimed to show an optical illusion as if the light comes from outside with a constant changes of walls and drawings.

Buhm Hong / Details from 12 minute animation Floating Dreams

Hong describes his art-video-animation journey: 

"Memories continuously shape our worldview, including our perception of real and imagined spaces. My multidisciplinary practice is an attempt to understand how people accept new and strange places, including the liminal space between “being there” and “being here”. I focus on the origin of consciousness that can connect two disparate yet related places through fragmented, stream-of-consciousness thoughts that gradually form organic structures such as pipes and mirrors. I work across various artistic platforms including video, sculpture, installation, and drawing to express remnants of multi-layered memories that become landscapes of my profound imagination. I create spaces that seem to exist only in our subconscious—places that are simultaneously nostalgic and utterly foreign. I concretize my ideas regarding the structure of memories in the three-dimensional world, often utilizing organic and industrial imagery such as pipes and mirrors, intertwined with labyrinthine elaborateness. The pipes serve as a conduit for the flow of memories, while the mirrors’ poignant reflections constantly change through the shadows of the pipes, forming an infinite loop of faded recollections."

To get a sense of Hong's animation style, visit his Floating Dreams.

Artist at work / Buhm Hong setting up projector

Also on display at the rear of the gallery is 5 Rooms.

The exhibition was juried by juried by David A. Ross.

Nb. The color variation in the selected details from the animation resulted from the image editing process. Joe Nalven

Contours of Thinking: A Show at the Museum of Art - Black on White

Author's note:  A recently published article on the BRAIN Initiative (April 2, 2015) listed seven goals for the ambitious brain project. The goals emphasize STEM (science and engineering,) rather than STEAM (adding arts to the mix). The fifth and seventh goals of the BRAIN Initiative might be a bridge to philosophy and the arts: Develop new theories of how the brain functions based on better ways of analyzing and interpreting data; Apply all the new techniques to understanding how humans think, feel and understand.

One might ask whether an eighth goal might have been included (especially in light of the seventh):  conceptualize each of the prior seven goals within a philosophical mindset. That wording might not read well or even be considered irrelevant ─ it doesn't seem 'scientific'; but then, reductive approaches often miss meaning in art, literature and the magic we perceive and reflect upon. I got that point drilled into me when I studied The Act of Creation by Arthur Koestler in the mid 1960s  ─ an inquiry into the creative efforts of both scientists and artists.

Here is an essay that grew out of that class on creativity and which I've rewritten and expanded over the years. Consider this art exhibit a challenge to the BRAIN Initiative: how exactly would brain science explain this exhibit?

Your thoughts?
 

Imagine walking into a museum ─ an art museum with a new exhibit called Black on White. The room housing the exhibit is small and set off from the regular exhibits of 18th century landscapes. This room traditionally houses exhibits dedicated to the boundaries of the human imagination.

You approach the first image. It appears to be a line, more or less straight and more or less textured with shades of black. The line is inscribed on a fabric that looks like white space. The title plate says Unknown Artist. Carbon dated to 8000 BCE. Southwest US. Found inside a recessed area of cave.  Thought to represent a hunting weapon with magical qualities.

Unknown Artist. Carbon dated to 8000 BCE. Southwest U.S.
Found inside a recessed area of cave / A hunting weapon?

You might wonder about magic as a much needed adjunct to the harsh surrounds of life. After all religion has been found in all societies, though not to the same extent and not with everyone participating ─ but still there as a pervasive force. Life without the constant light and noise of contemporary life, a life without modern shelter and weapons. As much as can be inferred from life in a primitive technological period, art likely expressed magical desires to control the environment. Art, religion and the practicalities of survival in the deep recesses of the human psyche, measured in thousands of years of the history of the human species ─ modern man and woman notwithstanding.

You walk over to the next image and it looks remarkably the same: a black line on a white space. The title plate says, Artist: Emilio Velez, A lone tree on an Alaskan snowscape as seen through snow goggles.  As you think about the artist description, you might nod in agreement. Yes, there is the brilliant white snow. The snow goggles prevent me from being overwhelmed and blinded by the whiteness of the snow. The tree looms up ─ a solitary pole of blackness. The artist’s intent is clear, revealing and persuasive.

Emilio Velez / A lone tree on an Alaskan snowscape
as seen through snow goggles

Having fully absorbed the impressions crafted by the artist of a black tree on white snow, you now walk to the next painting. This image appears to be the same as the previous image ─ a line, more or less straight and more or less textured with shades of black. You look at the artist description and it says, Frank Morton, A picture of the universe.

Frank Morton, A picture of the universe

Aha! Now the artist has taken a photorealistic image of the object (the universe) and placed it on a white space. You now recall the news story of the well-known photo-astronomer who claimed to have taken a picture of the universe. A naturalistic approach to image making. Again, the artist’s intent is clear, revealing and persuasive.

You continue on through the exhibit. The next image looks strikingly like the last three, except this one is labeled, Noemi Parvet, The number one.  It is an abstraction codified as blackness on whiteness and, again, the artist’s intent is clear, revealing and persuasive.  

Noemi Parvet, The number one

Viewed from the perspective of human history ─ or histories since there have been many cultures and institutions with their particular trajectory ─ these images have been understandable in a concrete way. Or at least they appear straightforward. The next one seems odd, almost as if a con artist decided to play in the artist’s sandbox. The curator and collector were willing to go along with the con with a nod and a wink. Strange.

Here, the artist is reaching beyond the lie of representational art. We know that the image of the sun is not really the sun. That is an acceptable fiction. But now we have the trickster who wants us to believe the exact opposite of what the fiction claims to represent ─ as if a painting of the sun were called the moon. Is this the disdain of the modern? The artist’s own name ─ D.A. Lie ─ is both a put on and a putting off of the viewer; true and false at the same time. This is the weak howl of alienated individuals, participating in a civilization that is collapsing upon itself with no foundational illusions, small or grand, to give palpable meaning to life. In this image, the artist’s intent is clear ─ to lie to the viewer (can something be two different things at the same time?) ─ which, while revealing about the image’s content may cease to be persuasive as art. Oh well . . . time to move on:  This is really the sun AND this is really the moon.

D.A. Lie / This is really the sun AND this is really the moon

More modernism. Or maybe a post─post modernism. Here you might infer that the artist is uncertain of self as well as an uncertainty about what is real, leading to an infinite regression ─ of a thing posing as a thing posing as a thing posing as a thing, and so on. For these artists, the result is an inability to find beauty; they only find the emptiness of the regression. It is the artist who says, ‘I can do nothing that speaks to the magical acts found in art from kachinas to Munch’s Scream. Instead, I can pose what looks natural and say it has been transformed into art simply because of the pose itself. And if I can persuade museums and collectors to buy the pose, then I no longer need to be an artist, but only pretend.’ The modern artist’s intent is clear, but is it any longer revealing about either the content of the image or persuasive about what art is or ought to be?

You come to the sixth image. Here the description states, Xingua-Jun, Black color on a white space.

Xingua-Jun, Black color on a white space

It is what it is, not a fiction or symbol of something else, but only itself, as if to say ‘There is no art, but just color on a white space.’

In thinking back on the exhibition, you realize that you have just experienced the breadth of the visual artistic endeavor  ─  from magical object, to impressionistic, to naturalistic, to abstract expressionist perspectives and, of course, the nihilist and Philistine who claims there is no art, but simply ego put to a white space in the nature of colored inks. And even lying and posing may indeed be called art ─ if one wants to stretch the terminology and call up, down and down, up.

Yes, there are different traditions and individual styles within these visual perspectives, and it is very much worth the effort to appreciate these variations. One might also argue that by stepping back, we can understand the limits of human thought and, by way of those limits, understand the unity of the human psyche in expressing visual artistic endeavors. Some societies and periods of history might favor one style over another, but each style is accessible to human thought ─ at least in terms of the human experience up to this point in history. But even within these limits, the variety of human experience is immense.

Even more so when we realize that all art is summed up by dots on an X-dimensional plane (generally, two dimensions). Get a big enough electron microscope and even paint will dissolve into dots, or points of light. From this vantage point, one can hardly discern an image of art from a child’s scratching with crayons. All are dots. What are needed to differentiate the child’s play from the artist’s image are the elements that comprise the goodness of an aesthetic object. Here, we rediscover the importance of form, composition, theme, color management, perspective, and the like. We do not need to give up any of the craft in the many traditions of creating art.

Each object must be taken on its own. Is this artistic or not? We can refer to a tradition ─ to the media, the craft and styles ─ but such a discussion merely takes us into various technologies, patterns and reputational schemes that can be applied to create the art image. Those are useful for learning about the manner and categorization of art objects.

But, truly, each image must stand on its own. Is the image compelling from an aesthetic perspective? Aesthetic? To what aesthetic should we refer? Some might be trapped inside an ethnocentric box, thinking that the object must be representational (does the man look like a correctly drawn man?) or that three-dimensional perspective is somehow better than an image without it. Many cling to an ethnocentric aesthetic ─ which works for those who live inside that particular box. But the human experience, and human artistic experience is more than one box, more than two boxes, and more than boxes, too.

At the other extreme from ethnocentrism is relativism. That can lead into the trap of a world without any standards. Before we leap back into, ‘oh yes, western representational art’ or some other easy way to grab hold of a standard, it might be more prudent to indulge ourselves in the variety of artistic images from ancient to modern times, and from culture A to culture Z, and from painted objects to photographed objects to digitally re-mastered objects.

With this one black line on a white space, we have already seen six distinct pictures: a magical line, a tree on a snowscape, a picture of the universe, the number one, a lie, a pose and black paint on a white space. The physical markings are the same, but the context ─ expressed by words ─ sets them apart as different objects or different perceptions of a visually identical object.

The human experience is not a closed enterprise. Within our limitations in thought and expression, there are yet many ways to concoct artistic imagery and, then, to appreciate it. Some dialogue would help in talking through what we see, some thought would help in attending to the artistry of the object, and some empathy would help in communing with the moment that the artist intends for us to experience.

It is also the rare moment when our imagination is not inflected by the world of words ─ either as explicit and consciously aware or as embedded through our socialization into one or more cultures. These are the words that we bend and shape the perceived world to our particular needs and, of course, which have already bent and shaped us to societies needs and, in turn, are being bent and shaped by creative individuals. The ongoing struggle of the individual in society permeates our art and, indeed, every aspect of our life.

From the perspective of the individual, the curator of the original Black on White exhibit some fifty years ago helped pave the way for demonstrating how the same starting point can lead to the concoction of a variety of artistic images. Or at least can lead to a variety of labeled boxes in which we find or discover different images.

But now, you notice there is a seventh image. The show has been reinstalled with a new image. It is still the same line inside the same white box, but the line has apparently been tinkered with and unlike the other six previous versions or so the artist says. 

Artist X / That thou art:  Homage to Black on White, a digital reinterpretation

The artist notes that he had seen the earlier show and that he was reinterpreting that imagery. An homage to black on white. The artist explains that he is conveying the relationship between his idea and the pixels within a digital imaging program. He also states that his image is, in fact, a collage of all the other images presented in this exhibit, that his work is a synthesis of all the styles and contextual statements presented and, as such, his digital art work constitutes something new and unique in art ─ a digital aesthetic. It is not a mere copy, for that would be a reproduction or giclée; rather, it is a new rendering with gradients, beveling, transform, filters and the like that are beyond the perception of the human eye, but altogether possible with digital technology. Or so he says.

The curator of the show had been tempted to exclude this image because it looked the same. Was this, the curator reflected, simply the exercise of using a new toolset ─ that it was only a new dimension of thought by way of new technology in the same manner when canvas supplanted wood panels. Or had this artist contributed something more to traditional notions of aesthetics expressed in the first six black lines on a white space? And what was traditional anyway? The digital artist titled the seventh image: That thou art.

The curator was puzzled by the title. The curator had thrown up his hands and decided for himself that not enough was known to categorize this visual experience. Maybe it was a new style of art after all. The curator saw the crowds clustered around the last image and accepted the digital artist’s intent as a matter of faith. Perhaps this is what is needed to draw an admiring audience back into the museum ─ maybe this could be another fundable category ─ impressionism, art deco, cubism, modernism, post-modernism, watercolor, fauvism, pointillism, and now, digital art.

Joe Nalven, 2009

Postscript, 2015:
I recently wrote an article about the animation imagery of Buhm Hong. The work discussed is Floating Dreams of which he writes: "Memories continuously shape our worldview, including our perception of real and imagined spaces. My multidisciplinary practice is an attempt to understand how people accept new and strange places, including the liminal space between 'being there' and 'being here.' I focus on the origin of consciousness that can connect two disparate yet related places through fragmented, stream-of-consciousness thoughts that gradually form organic structures . . . ."

I realize that the concepts which make the series of images appear to be different objects is open ended. Consciousness, dream states, fantasies are other realms from which the object continues to take on new meanings. With a nod to Buhm Hong, I add yet another picture for the museum.

Artist unknown / Dream state fantasy

Historical note:

This aesthetic puzzle was originally conceived in the mid 1960s in a class on Creativity at Columbia University. The text was Arthur Koestler’s The Act of Creation (1964). From time to time, I’ve elaborated upon it, but the core understanding remains. I have used this example occasionally in classes I’ve taught in philosophy and cultural anthropology and alluded to it in my imagery when perception is confounded by the magic of art.  A version was published in GoingDigital: The Practice and Vision of Digital Artists by Joe Nalven and JD Jarvis, pp. 25-30, Thomson, 2005.The Going Digital book takes the next step by adding quite a bit more information to the artistic endeavor than simply a black line ─ three photographs were used to capture the built environment, the natural environment and the human form. Clearly, the aesthetic hypothetical of a black line on a white space is designed to set the stage for a far more expansive discussion of the aesthetic enterprise and not substitute for the world we actually live in. Our world has many more colors and shapes, we have fuzzy lines, densities and perspective, and not just a black line on a white space.

This article (with minor edits and the postscript) can be found at Nalven Studio / Thoughts.