Alberti’s Window

Last week before visiting the opening of the new exhibition at the MOA, “Turning Point: The Demise of Modernism and Rebirth of Meaning in American Art,” J and I listened to an interview on the radio with Campbell Gray, the museum director. I took an art theory class from Campbell last Fall, and it was one of my favorite courses in my whole graduate career. He’s a very intelligent man and ran his class in a very Socratic fashion. I felt like he was also coming to conclusions and learning along with the rest of the class – it was great.

This MOA exhibition is really fabulous and ground-breaking in its theoretical base. I just hope that the museum audience realizes how fantastic this is – I have already discussed how a large part of the BYU student populous has a distaste for modern and contemporary art. Perhaps this show will help people to realize the theories and ideas that are behind the modern and minimalistic aesthetic. I’m just glad to see an exhibition in the MOA displaying art that isn’t from the 19th century!

Anyhow, in this interview Campbell made an interesting point about conceptual art. For those of you who are unfamiliar with conceptual art, it is a movement which started in the 60s that stressed emphasis on the concept or idea behind the work of art (instead of the artistic object itself). A famous example of conceptual art is “One and Three Chairs” by Joseph Kosuth. Here, Kosuth includes three manifestations of a chair: a dictionary definition of a chair, a physical chair, and a photograph of a chair. Essentially, Kosuth is examining the nature of a “chair” or the concept of “chairness,” if you will. Campbell said in this interview that this shift to conceptual art was a radical change in the art world, mainly because the work of art now is located in the mind of the viewer and not in the physical manifestation of the object. The physical objects shown in the gallery are only material “triggers” to help bring about the actual work of art – the concept.

When hearing this, J said that he had never thought of conceptual art this way. Although he understands the concepts proposed by these works of art, he also finds the physical manifestation of the concept (the object) to hold aesthetic value and beauty – in other words, he can have an aesthetic response through sensory interaction with the object. I can see what he’s saying, and I wonder how much conceptual artists considered visual aesthetic effects when creating their art. Obviously, some visual elements need to be considered in regards to the organization and display of the object itself. But how much would aesthetic beauty be considered? Would that detract from the concept itself and have the object serve as more than just a “trigger?”

Does anyone else find conceptual art to be aesthetically pleasing? I find conceptual art to be more intellectually stimulating and interesting than physically beautiful, but I can see where J is coming from and wonder if other people feel the same way.

Along these same lines, where does the concept of beauty fit in regards to ideas and concepts? Isn’t it interesting that ideas can be beautiful, but it is a different type of beauty than aesthetic beauty and taste? I’d love to discuss this subject with Kant and hear what he has to say.

Last weekend, while J was at a “Mantreat” with his brothers, I had time to go to The Frick Collection. I really loved going to this collection for a lot of reasons, particularly because I’m loving more and more the experience of visiting a personal collection instead of going to a museum. When visiting a collection, there usually isn’t really an “exhibition thesis” or message that the curator is trying to jam down your throat. Instead, you can simply enjoy the works and aesthetic that the collector itself enjoyed. It’s so nice. I feel like I can just focus on artistic aesthetic and beauty, instead of analyzing and historicizing. Although museums and exhibition theses have their virtues, sometimes it’s nice to just appreciate art for it’s beauty.

My biggest surprise when arriving at the Frick was seeing Holbein’s portrait of Sir Thomas More. I already was well familiar with this painting, but had never seen it in person. When I stood in front of it, I audibly gasped. There is such an energetic, vivacious quality in the red sleeves of More’s clothing – it was so gorgeous! The painting was so much more lively and animated than I had ever before thought (I have to admit, portraiture is not always my favorite type of art). I have included a reproduction which best “does justice” to the work and the glowing sleeves, but it still is a far cry from the actual work.

The sleeves were only the beginning of my love affair with this painting. The fur trim is so soft in it’s depiction -it really is a great example of how oil painters used their medium “evasively.” This isn’t oil paint at all – this is fur! The cold, heavy gold chain around More’s neck (which also parades the strengths and capabilities of Holbein and oil paint, because it has such strikingly different qualities than the other textures in the work) makes the fur seem even softer by contrast.

What a gemsticle of a work! I’ve always appreciated Northern Renaissance and Baroque art to a degree, but I think this is one of the first times that I really had a strong aesthetic experience. The bright oil colors were just too gorgeous to be overlooked. Way to go, Holbein.

The nicest nicety about NY so far is The Metropolitan Museum of Art. J and I went there last week for free (thanks to J’s membership at the SAM). We started in the new Greek and Roman Collection, where I almost fell over when confronted with the Dipylon Krater! It was such an unexpected surprise, that I kept jumping up and down in ecstasy! I have to admit, everything after that was a little bit anticlimactic, except for perhaps the Egyptian temple (of Darfur?) that’s located in the lower level.

J and I were both disappointed because our respective periods of choice were both closed that day, European Baroque (me) and Modern/AbEx painting (J). So, we went back to the Met again on Saturday (again, for free!). Both of our areas-o-choice were open then, and I got to see my favorite painter’s works, like this one:

It was interesting to see this in person, and read the text label about the different reconstructions for the work (e.g. the upturned musical paper in the lower right hand corner is completely a reconstruction). I thought a lot about connoisseurship, wondering if I would be able to tell Caravaggio’s “hand” apart from the reconstruction, without the help of a black light. Even though connoisseurship is rather looked-down upon in art history, there really is a lot of value to it.

I think it would be fun to be a connoisseur of certain artists, but I don’t think that kind of expertise will ever be part of what I do (whatever that is). Connoisseurship and art mostly just reside in the world of art galleries and appraisals now. I guess there is quite a bit of connoisseurship in museum practice too, but I don’t know how much it is used by curators on a regular basis. Hmm – I’ll have to look into that.

It stopped raining and now I’m free to leave the library. This blog post will have to end. Now.