Philip Matthews is a 2011 graduate of the MFA program at Washington University in St. Louis and is this year’s Jr. Writer-in-Residence in the English department. He teaches poetry and creative non-fiction. He is also a gallery assistant at the Pulitzer.

by Philip Matthews, Gallery Assistant

Last Thursday, October 6, I had the pleasure of experiencing the first of a series of Sound Waves events, which will all respond to the current exhibition, Reflections of the Buddha. For this installment, DJ Tim Rakel pumped a variety of Indian and Indian-influenced music throughout the exhibition through a sound system installed in the grates in the floor. The effect was encompassing, and as a gallery assistant stationed in the main gallery over the course of three hours, I found myself considering the Buddhist concepts of impermanence and attachment.

According to Buddhist thought, everything is in a constant state of change. The Pulitzer building exemplifies this principle, as natural light shifts throughout the day throughout the galleries: in one moment, a shimmering reflection of the Watercourt on the ceiling; in one moment, a rod of light through the Buddha on a phyllite plate; in one moment, nightfall reveals the standing Buddha reflected in a window, alongside my own reflection. And Rakel’s musical selections enhanced this principle beautifully: moving from a recording of monks chanting a cappella in unison, to a shimmering of sitars and a woman’s microtonic pipes like I have never heard, to a percussive, upbeat dance fitting of a dakini. Throughout the event, I am struck by how the power of the artworks around me interact with the music and the building, and how those relationships evolve as time progresses. At any given moment, I am satisfied to be here, having the experience I am having. Is this something like samadhi?

But when I begin to become attached: for example, when I begin to miss the blocks of orange light which sunset cast on the wall, I begin to miss out on the current experience of night available to me, with its different beauties and significances. This, I feel, is the Buddha’s most useful teaching to my daily life, which is full of attachments: to loved ones, to routine, to self-image. Because nothing is permanent, my attachments dissatisfy me when the conditions of my life change: I am dissatisfied that the relationship I want to last must inevitably end; I am dissatisfied when my students are not as talkative as they were last week; I am dissatisfied that, at 24, I am still so much skinnier than other men. The Buddha: “…on the cessation of craving ceases attachment; on the cessation of attachment ceases becoming…” (Mitchell, Donald W. “The Teachings of the Buddha.” Buddhism: Introducing the Buddhist Experience. New York: Oxford UP, 2008. 42. Print.)

Here is a creative response to the challenges and questions of intimacy, attachment and impermanence which the current exhibition at the Pulitzer has begun to raise for me. The first draft of this poem was written at Sound Waves on Thursday, October 6, in fragments, on the back of a receipt I had in my wallet at the time.

Kay Renner, a gallery assistant, explains how to play the pianos in stylus, and how visitors’ experiences depend a lot on what they contribute to the installation.

Gallery Assistant Ronald Gore gives some background on Matta-Clark’s Bingo.

Gallery Assistant Kay Renner talks about Conical Intersect and invites you to come to the Pulitzer.

Nicole Stevens, Gallery Assistant, talks about Gordon Matta-Clark’s Splitting.

Wednesday afternoon, I borrowed Gallery Assistant Nicole Stevens, last on our blog with Cephalus and Procris, to continue “From the Galleries” with Urban Alchemy. In the video above, Nicole talks about Splitting on the Mezzanine while referencing two documentary photographs of the monumental piece. (Do the images seem familiar to you?) In the Pulitzer’s Cube Gallery, you’ll find Splitting: Four Corners and a print, Splitting, which artfully reveals the interior of half the house that Matta-Clark bisected and that Four Corners was taken from.

 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 »

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:

When visitors walk into the Pulitzer’s front door, they first meet gallery assistants, guardians for the building and ambassadors for the Pulitzer Foundation. Besides directing guests to the coatroom, explaining why the lights aren’t on, or escorting people through Joe, these GAs are equipped with wide-ranging knowledge and talents.

You can now get a little introduction to this team online. For the past few weeks, we’ve been collecting short biographical paragraphs from them for a Flickr album, “Meet the Gallery Assistants.” You can also see the GAs’ web contributions in their blog posts on our various pages, or in videos, such as those in the “From the Galleries” posts.

Gallery Assistant head shots, used in Flickr set “Meet the Gallery Assistants”

Yesterday afternoon, Gallery Assistant Stephen Ducker talked about his favorite painting and one of the masterpieces in Ideal (Dis-) Placements, Jusepe de Ribera’s Saint Jerome. He spoke about Saint Jerome’s backstory, mentioning the notorious ascetic’s early life as a “thug,” his later devotion to translating the Bible, and the rock, featured in the painting, which Jerome used to beat himself if his thoughts strayed towards the naughty sort. Steve said, in his opinion, Saint Jerome is the “most perfectly placed” painting in the exhibition, noting the direction of the saint’s eyes–away from the bawdy laundress, in Jean-Baptiste Greuze’s The Laundress, and towards the more pious paintings in the Cube Gallery.

http://www.vimeo.com/4265496

Steve Ducker on Saint Jerome

Today is Wednesday, which means the Pulitzer’s galleries are open to the public. I decided to take my handy little Flip video camera out front to check out what was going on. And so, here begins a new mini-series that I’ll post occasionally: “From the Galleries”.  Anything in our galleries that you’d like us to showcase? Something you’ve been wondering? Let us know!

Today: Nicole, a gallery assistant, talks about her favorite painting, the narrative behind it, and how the placement of certain works can be seen as art historical inside jokes: