Should curators take artists' wishes into account when designing exhibitions?

Recently, one of my classes took a trip to the Katzen Gallery at American University to see an exhibit of Louise Rosskam's photography and to meet one of the curators. As the curator showed us around the exhibit and shared with us the details of her creative process, I was particularly struck by how much she seemed to be influenced by the wishes of the artist and her family. Which of course led me to wonder: how much should a curator allow herself to be influenced by an artist's wishes or the wishes of family members? Is she doing an injustice to the artist if she takes some liberties with the way the works are presented? Can a curator get too tied up with trying to honor what the artist wanted and fail to accomplish her goals in the exhibition?

Using the Rosskam exhibit as an example, I noticed several aspects of the exhibition (some which worked effectively, others which raised questions) which paid special attention to the artist's perceived wishes. One of the most effective manifestations of this was the arrangement of Rosskam's photographs in eight chronological sections. Each section, introduced with a well-written wall text, focused on one of the artist's photography projects (her work for Standard Oil Company, her images of post-WWII Puerto Rico, etc.). These sections were cohesive and flowed fluidly around the exhibition room. By arranging the works in this way, the curators paid respect to Rosskam's development as a photographer, from her early days to her later works.

Another aspect of the exhibition which worked to the exhibit's benefit while honoring Rosskam's wishes was the attention paid to her social consciousness. In our class discussion with the curator, she especially emphasized the artist's dedication to socially-committed photography, or photo-documentary, as she called it. The curators included in the exhibit newspaper clippings and other ephemera that supported Rosskam's commitment to making a difference in the world through her photographs.

I was a bit confused, however, about the choice to include photographs by Rosskam's husband Edwin, also a prolific photographer, in the exhibition. The curators' reasoning was that Rosskam worked so closely with her husband, who was her teacher and her inspiration, that it would be an injustice not to include his works as well in the exhibition. Additionally, the curators were uncertain about the attribution of some works - in the cases where they were not sure if Louise or Edwin had taken the photo, they attributed it to both of them. The entrance to the exhibit also featured an image of Louise and Edwin, not an image of Louise alone. The curator explained to us that the family of the Rosskam's had expressly asked for a photo of both Rosskams to be placed at the entrance, not Louise by herself.

Something that raised a red flag for me was the use of the term 'retrospective' to describe the exhibition, meanwhile it was not a full retrospective of all of Rosskam's work. The curators decided to exhibit only her work from the beginning of her career in the 1930's to her work in the 1960's, excluding all work done in the 1970's-1980's. The reasoning behind this was that her later work was "not up to the quality" of her earlier work. Is it still a retrospective if the curators decide some of the artist's works are not up to snuff for the rest of the exhibit? Hmm...

In any case, I like to advocate a balance - and I think that applies here too. There is a fine line between catering to an artist's every whim and respecting his or her ideals.

Writing About Art: Who is Eligible?

Today's blog post is not going to be particularly scholarly, but I think it has a degree of validity in the world of universities, if not in the art world as a whole. A few days ago, I found myself in the midst of a heated debate with my boyfriend Will* and his roommate Martin*. Earlier in the evening, Martin had made a comment criticizing the writing in the art section of our university newspaper. He further made the point that the newspaper staff members writing the articles in the art section are not art history majors. The debate ensued from this idea: should those writing about art in newspapers or magazines have a background in art, or is anyone qualified to write about it?

Martin and I are both art history majors, so I suppose we are biased to some degree. Will, who is a government major, is an avid lover of both art and architecture, but has never taken an art history class. Martin and I found ourselves arguing that, at least in the setting of a university newspaper, the writers of the art section should have some working background of art history, while Will was adamant that anyone with an appreciation for art should be able to contribute.

I felt that since art history majors are trained in the specific jargon and methodology for describing works of art, exhibits, and programs, they would better be able to compose articles relating to art. Will countered that the general readership of a university newspaper may not necessarily have the technical vocabulary inherent in art historical writing, and therefore might be lost in a newspaper article that is too full of foreign terms. I explained to him that there is obscure vocabulary used in many different types of newspaper articles, not only those relating to art. In addition, art history jargon, if properly explained in the context of the article, is something that will actually enhance the reader's understanding - in other words, using "art history words" like chiaroscuro or perspective gives the reader an opportunity to expand his or her own vocabulary.

Will also argued that non-art history majors may have an appreciation and working knowledge of art, even though it is not their focus of study at the time. But I continue to wonder: does having an interest in art qualify you to be able to write about it? I don't know how much credibility a music major might have writing about politics. The world of politics has its own set of vocabulary which is understood by a select group of people. So I guess if a music major (or any other major for that matter) had a working knowledge of the way to describe political events, he or she should not be deprived of doing so. But still, something about this is gnawing at me - perhaps it's just my need to validate myself as an art history major in a community where art is not always the focus. Or perhaps it's something else.

In the world outside the university setting, those who write about art in reputable publications generally have a background in some area of the art world. Roberta Smith of the New York Times, for example, is an art critic and lecturer who has worked in numerous museums. It is rare for a newspaper like the New York Times to include art articles written by authors who are not professionals in the field (unless the purpose of the story is to get a certain person's perspective on art, etc.). But does a university newspaper necessarily need to conform to the standards of a publication such as the Times? Food for thought.

NB: Regardless of who is writing for the university newspaper's art section, the articles should be of high quality. There is no excuse for bad writing, no matter what the subject.

*Names have been changed.

Does Interpretation Debase Art?

While reading Lisa C. Roberts' article "Changing Practices of Interpretation" for my Museum Education and Interpretation class, I found myself presented with the question: "Does interpretation demean art by turning it from an aesthetic phenomenon into a social or historical construct?" This was something I hadn't really thought of before. Usually when visiting museums, I tend to read and appreciate the wall text that accompanies the exhibit. However, there are several occasions (particularly when the labels are too verbose) when I'm just not in the mood to spend half an hour reading the text, and would much rather observe and enjoy the object in front of me. But does wall text inhibit visitors' appreciation of the art and somehow demean their aesthetic enjoyment of the works?

One side to this argument is advocated by John Walker of the NGA, who compared a work of art to a musical composition. What he meant by this was that art should be a source of enjoyment, of happiness, not necessarily a piece of historical evidence. In his opinion (and in the opinions of those who agree with him), visitors to a museum should not be bombarded with information, but instead allowed to appreciate the art from primarily an aesthetic standpoint.

The flip side of this debate raises the question of whether museum visitors will better understand and find pleasure in the art if they are more knowledgeable about it. Many museums today include in their mission statements clauses about their duty to be places of learning for the public. Without providing visitors with some sort of information (whether through wall text, pamphlets, videos, or other media), they might be lost navigating through exhibits of Munch prints or Aboriginal sculpture.

Upon discussing Roberts' article with my class, one of the topics that came up was the idea of Visual Thinking Strategies, a method of teaching critical thinking and encouraging art appreciation merely through looking at art and discussing what one sees. The VTS method relies on observation and questions to create a dialogue about the artwork. It does not, however, provide learners with historical background or context on the artist or the work. While I am certainly no expert on VTS (though I would love to learn more!), it seems to me that there is a piece missing from this puzzle. And unsurprisingly, my gut reaction to our class discussion of these unconventional methods also helped me unravel my opinions regarding the aesthetic vs. information debate. In a word: balance. Sometimes observing a work of art for its pure beauty or emotional impact is valuable and even necessary. Other times more context and information is needed to fully appreciate an object. So essentially what I'm advocating here is moderation. I don't want to go to a museum where I'm barraged with superfluous information, but I would like some context on what I'm looking at. If you have a problem with labels, don't read them. No one is forcing you.

Should Museums Charge Admission Fees?

As an art history student in Washington, D.C., I always thank my lucky stars that the (majority of the) Smithsonian Museums do not charge admission. I came to appreciate this even more this past summer while studying in Paris. While museum admission prices for students were often reduced, all visitors were required to pay entrance fees. Because I visited many of Paris's museums with my art history class, I was exempt from purchasing my own tickets, but what about the millions of tourists who wander through the Louvre and the D'Orsay per year? I guess what I'm getting at is the following: is it ethical for museums to charge their visitors admission fees? And should some visitors be exempt from paying this fee?

Is it ethical for an institution to make money from someone else's work?

By exhibiting the works of artists - whether deceased or living - is it ethical for museums to make a profit? Museums generally acquire works for exhibition by purchasing them, by borrowing them, or by donation. So if museums have acquired pieces from an artist's body of work by purchase, loan, or donation, they technically are the property of the museum. Since the museum owns the pieces, why shouldn't it make a profit from their exhibition? On the contrary, should we have moral reservations about paying money to a museum who is profiting from someone else's work?

If museums are intended to educate and entertain the larger populus, is charging an admission fee incongruent with the social mission of museums?

I suppose this question is based firstly on the opinion/assumption that museums have social missions. If we accept that this is true, at least for the intents and purposes of this blog post, then we can proceed with the question at hand. If a museum has in its mission statement the objective to reach people from all social classes and economic backgrounds, it should take into consideration the ability of its visitors to pay admission fees. For example, a low-income visitor may have several reservations about spending an afternoon in an art museum. First of all because of the all-too-pervasive conception of museums as "mausoleums" - where a visitor dressed improperly or without adequate social standing is not welcome. Secondly, a visitor who may not have the means to spend $20 on a museum ticket has a disadvantage over a more affluent visitor. In short: if a museum charges an admission fee, is it perpetuating the cycle of social disparity and failing to fulfill its social mission?

If museums do not charge admission, where else is the funding for their maintenance and programs going to come from?

Museums tend to draw funding from a variety of places: admission fees, donors, museum memberships, government subsidies, and endowments. Some smaller museums who may not receive as much government funding or who may not have a substantial endowment rely on visitors' admissions fees to fund museum programs and activities. Without the contribution of these fees, some such museums would be in financial turmoil or would possibly even shut down. Is it the government's place to step in and financially support (with taxpayers' dollars, of course) these museums? I don't know. Whose responsibility is it, then, to provide funding for museums?

As I am milling over all of these ideas in my mind, I can't help thinking of the Met's system of admission on a donation basis as a possible solution. Visitors to the Met are encouraged to pay a "suggested donation" fee, which is essentially a pay-as-much-as-you-can admission fee. There are pros and cons to this concept too. Some visitors might choose to pay nothing (which brings us back to the above question of who will financially support museums). Other visitors might be embarrassed to give anything less than the suggested donation, and so may be deterred from visiting the museum (which brings us back to my ponderings about museums' social missions). So I suppose, in actually hashing out the pros and cons, the Met's donation system isn't perfect either.

If donations are not the way to go, and museums will die without funding, where should we stand on the issue of charging admission?