Yesterday was the day we published Post 1 and 2 of the A Marathon Metamorphoses blog-have a look please. The notes consist of a welcome from Hannah Fullgraf and, along with a little reiteration on my part, a video of Director Matthias Waschek, explaining the Pulitzer perspective behind the mega-read.

The basic strategy for this blog is to offer some background information and updates related to the event at this month’s conclusion. Throughout August, we’ll sprinkle a few words on Ovid here, some on Wtewael there, and tie everything together with the narration of Hannah, as she’s the event’s manager. But like other aspects of the laboratorial Pulitzer, the blog doesn’t have a cookie-cutter recipe, which makes me, as a web communications assistant using an ever-changing form of documentation, wonder what exactly this web page should be made of.  

The Pulitzer has a few other web sites/blogs with the same layout, such as Let’s Look, Sorrento Springs, the French Program, but if you look at those pages linked to on our Collaborative Programming page, you’ll see that the events or programs are different from one another and have been documented in diverse ways. The French Program, periodic visits from Lindenwood, can be posted about per visit. The Sorrento Springs trip was a one-time occurrence and written about from various witnesses’ perspectives.

Now when it comes to A Marathon Metamorphoses, an event which will last just one weekend but include people from all over St. Louis and span art forms and areas of study, we’re working with a whole other animal. What should be recorded in the event planning? How do we make the page worthy in itself aside from the event? Does that matter? How do we tell people about Ovid et cetera without becoming too “educational” and departing “blog”? What will readers want to know? What will the pace be?

 http://www.vimeo.com/5626446

Emily Hickner, a Pulitzer gallery assistant, talks about two different kinds of saints she sees in Ideal (Dis-) Placements: Old Masters at the Pulitzer.

Emily Hickner, Gallery Assistant, is interviewed by Amy Broadway, Web Communications Assistant:

A: How long have you worked at the Pulitzer, and what exhibitions have you worked?

E: I’ve worked at the Pulitzer for approximately three years now. I started out as a volunteer at the Hiroshi Sugimoto exhibition and have since worked Portrait/Homage/Embodiment, Water, Dan Flavin: Constructed Light, and currently, Ideal (Dis-) Placements.

A: How did being a GA change during the different exhibitions?

E: Every week I spend about an hour in each gallery, revisiting the artwork. With exhibits like Portrait/Homage/Embodiment and Water, I found that I discovered more about the artwork over the course of each exhibition. These exhibitions showed works of art that go beyond realism and aesthetics, therefore I spent a lot of time trying to analyze the artist’s intention.

For example, Roni Horn’s Asphere which was on display during the Portrait/Homage/Embodiment exhibition. At first, I saw a dull metallic, misshapen ball on the floor, but after spending more time with it, I contemplated its meaning. Roni Horn called Asphere a self-portrait of sorts. After spending hours in close proximity, I started to understand why. It’s a reflective object, but it lacks sheen. In that sense, Asphere is a muddled reflection of its environment. The object’s shape is slightly warped, hence the name Asphere, displaying imperfection. I feel that Asphere is not just a self-portrait, but a portrayal of what it means to be human. In my opinion, we are distorted versions of our surroundings. Each of us a little misshapen.

To get back to my point, I believe that I fulfilled the intention of the artist by having this conversation with myself. Had I not spent the time in that gallery that I did, I would not have seen beyond what my immediate observation was.

On the other hand, the Dan Flavin did not produce the same results for me. Not only did the lights take a toll on my eyes, but the pieces did not seem to develop for me in the way that Roni Horn’s Asphere did. Flavin’s work has an immediate “wow” factor. I think people are naturally drawn to the colorful, soft electric glow of his works. Beyond my immediate response, I felt that there wasn’t much else to contemplate about his light installations. I enjoyed the way Flavin’s work showcased the building, and as a visitor, it is exciting to see. But as someone who was working around the light installations 5-7 hours a day, it was a little like working at a carnival instead of going to one.

A: What is your favorite station to be at for Ideal (Dis-) Placements: Old Masters at the Pulitzer? Read the rest of this entry »

Tour (noun): a long journey including the visiting of a number of places in sequence, esp. with an organized group led by a guide.

At the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts, we don’t give tours, and this isn’t meant as a way to leave our viewers in the cold, instead it is to allow them the freedom to experience an exhibition on their own time. Now granted, there is a sort of sequence that the space of our building allows, but it is up to a visitor how long they will spend in front of a work of art. Do they wish to see what happens to the shade of blue on Mary Magdalene as a cloud passes across the sun? Or rather has the song they are singing in their head caused them to stop and look at Saint Jerome just a bit longer to ponder his more contemporary meanings. Or forget the artwork. Does the 3^rd hole from the northwest corner of Ando’s concrete match that of the 15^th hole on the north side of the building? (Some architects can tell you.) As gallery staff, we don’t have those answers for each viewer, the truth is that each viewer, whether in a group or solo has some personal interest that has brought them to our space. Since the Pulitzer is meant to be a laboratory and a sanctuary, it is our hope to allow each space to flesh that out for each visitor.

We have a bulk Read the rest of this entry »

A Midsummer Night turned into a magical event the Friday before last. The St. Louis heat and humidity let up until we were only cozy, and by sundown, the moon was a perfect Cheshire Cat smile. Guests filtered in and out throughout the evening, and the general feedback was that they enjoyed themselves. We now have footage from the occasion for you:

In the second to last clip, Director Matthias Waschek remarks how A Midsummer Night’s Dream fits in with the Pulitzer’s current exhibition as an Old Master work with its script, direction, and music. This made me think of other ways particularly the play compares to our current paintings, such as how its ageless themes of human experience (love, dreams, lust, confusion, violence, etc.) make it forever pertinent to society.

Yesterday, I asked people on Facebook and Myspace broadly, “What do you think makes Old Masters relevant to our society today?” and received some thoughtful responses, including that of Facebook fan Paula, who wrote, “…I think every one of those pieces of art speaks to something within the human condition…” Likewise, A Midsummer Night’s Dream deals with the frustrations of desire and how comical humans can be while hooked to their base emotions.

We’ll observe human nature more during A Marathon Metamorphoses, when we read a Classic that must have stirred Shakespeare’s imagination a little. For instance, in Ovid’s story of Cephalus and Procris, we see tragedy associated with one of those seven deadly sins, jealousy. The dysfunctional lovers’ tale is represented in a painting now on display at the Pulitzer, Joachim Wtewael’s Cephalus and Procris (The Death of Procris).

Last Wednesday afternoon, Gallery Assistant Jason Holler spoke with a visitor who had a fantastical memory to share on one of the masterpieces in the Old Masters exhibition. He asked her to write it down, and this is what the note reads:

“In the 1950s, my mother’s living room was sort of Danish Modern except for a large reproduction of Tiepolo’s The Crucifixion over the television. As a 3-year-old, the picture frightened me enough that if the room was dark, I wouldn’t enter unless I had a flashlight. I would shine the flashlight directly on the picture to make sure none of the figures had climbed down off their crosses or moved. I can vividly recall shining that flashlight on that picture numerous times, but I don’t know what became of it. We moved when I was four years old and the picture did NOT go with us.”

One thing I enjoy about this little story is it illustrates how much drama the brain can extract from just oil on canvas. No surround sound or eye-popping special effects, and still figures descending from a picture is surely as riveting as any half-hour of Up in 3D. (And can we imagine how that ghastly execution scene looked to the less culturally-stewed 3-year-old?)

Like reading a book as opposed to watching a movie, a painting leaves room for the imagination to create sounds, smells, textures. (The clopping horse, the flying dust, the wailing women-I feel chaos in The Crucifixion.) We learn about ourselves in this process of viewing. We’re active creators, and although the painter, like Paolo Domenico Finoglia with his Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife, may guide our gaze through the use of shadows and shapes, the mental reel while looking at a painting is different for each person, and the uncharted territory is exciting.

A side note: When I googled “The Crucifixion reproduction,” thinking about why people buy reproductions, a link to Dali’s The Crucifixion popped up, and I recognized it as a framed poster, which I had observed in bewilderment as a 4-year-old in my Cajun mamaw’s living room.

Kay Renner, a gallery assistant and Kansas City Art Institute graduate, told the camera last week why she loves Old Master drawings currently in our Lower Gallery. She pointed out that sketches can give insights into the art process, which aren’t always explicit in paintings. Because works on paper are light-sensitive, Kay noted, it’s rare to see such a stunning collection.

To ensure proper conservation standards, these treasures have been kept in a gallery without any natural light and where the overhead levels can be closely controlled. Plus, as Rachel announced, these drawings will be de-installed at an earlier date than the Old Master paintings, in order to limit their exposure. So if you haven’t seen the drawing room yet, get to the Pulitzer by June 20. 

For more convincing, listen to Kay:

Amy: Hannah, you’re the recipient of a Kress Interpretive Fellowship at Art Museums, a jointly shared appointment between the Pulitzer and the Saint Louis Art Museum. What exactly does this fellowship involve–who are you working for, and what are your specific duties?

Hannah: The Kress Interpretive Fellowship is for the training of a young museum professional as a museum curator or educator of European Art. The fellowship is for one year, and as you mentioned, it’s a shared appointment between the Pulitzer and SLAM, so I’ll be working at the Pulitzer from May to November before heading to SLAM.

At the Pulitzer, I’m working closely with Director Matthias Waschek, Community Engagement Manager Lisa Harper Chang, and Visitor Services Manager Courtney Henson, to implement “Exploring Art” for the Old Masters exhibition. I will not only provide the art historical context for each work, but I’m also working to create a meaningful dialogue in which participants learn through their visual experiences as a group and also alone.

Read the rest of this entry »

“It appears that cultural organizations, in comparison with other agencies, might be uniquely positioned to act as catalysts for community involvement and as agents for capacity building. Cultural initiatives are inclusive, and have an unsurpassed capacity to open dialogue between people and engage their enthusiasm and commitment to a shared redevelopment process.” -Richard Sandell

On my second day as a Brown School social work practicum student at the Pulitzer, I found myself in the art room at Cole Elementary working with fourth- and fifth-graders to create a light installation piece. This was a decidedly atypical social work task, but I was excited to learn things that I couldn’t necessarily glean from textbooks.

The Cole students were instructed to pour paint in glass ornament balls and swirl the paint around to create marbled patterns. The ornaments were to fill a 6-foot tall clear tube to be displayed in Grand Center. We quickly realized that we’d have to ban the glitter and strongly encourage the “less is more” approach to painting so that the balls would dry in time. Read the rest of this entry »

A few weeks back, I posted that our Lower Gallery will become home to two photographs by Thomas Struth for the remainder of the Old Masters exhibition.  I can give you a sneak peek at one of the photographs, The Restorers at San Lorenzo Maggiore, Naples:

Thomas Struth, The Restorers at San Lorenzo Maggiore, Naples, 1988, 1989
Courtesy Marian Goodman Gallery, New York
Image courtesy of the artist

The placement of the Old Masters works within our exhibition accentuates their physicality and helps the viewer to re-imagine the galleries as reminders of historic spaces for which such works were either conceived or in which they were later presented, such as the Grande Galerie of a seventeenth-century palace or the interior of a Renaissance of Baroque church.

The paintings Struth depicts in this photograph are stacked one against the other in an open loggia, reminding us of the physicality and ephemeral quality of Old Master paintings before they are hung in a church for devotion of a museum for admiration and study.

Both photographs will be on view starting Wednesday, June 24th.

Today’s post is more of a mini-announcement –

We recently extended our Old Masters exhibition through October 3rd.  Most of the works will remain on view, with the exception of the drawings in the Lower Gallery which will be going back home to Harvard.  In their place we’re installing photographs by Thomas Struth, on view beginning June 24th.  In the meantime, here’s why our director, Matthias Waschek, decided these works made sense within the context of this exhibition:

“The displacement of artworks can take place in the dimension of space and in that of time. We have chosen to “dis-”place Old Masters from the context of the Saint Louis Art Museum and Harvard Art Museum. But even before being acquired by these two collections, the paintings were within different contexts as well. The Pulitzer installation looks both towards the history of presentation in a pre-electrical world and towards a reconciliation of the old and the contemporary.

In my mind, Thomas Struth also confronts the old and the new. In contrast to the modernity of the visitors with their clothes, glasses and cameras, stands the “oldness” of the paintings. Seen optimistically, these works have an eternal value, and the reactions of the visitors transcend the time into which they were born. Seen pessimistically, the paintings look like dinosaurs or fossils, and the awe, curiosity, and sometimes the stressed expression on their faces show how little the visitors have in common with the world of the old masters.

Artworks need viewers. We hope that the the presentation of art at the Pulitzer invites the viewers to look afresh. Struth is an excellent fit for this exhibition, as he makes us view along with other modern viewers.”

We can’t officially announce which photos will be on view yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as we can!