Douglas Crimp at the Met's "Pictures Generation" press preview

For me, the Metropolitan Museum's much discussed, uncharacteristically risk-taking theme show, Pictures Generation (to Aug. 2) is more remarkable for that conservative institution's willingness to tackle a worthy, complex contemporary subject than for the actual rewards derived from viewing it.

While the underlying Big Idea---artists' appropriation of media images---has undeniably gained lasting traction, many of the movement's 30 practitioners in this 160-work survey have not. The big names, from our vantage point some 30 years later, are Richard Prince, Cindy Sherman and Barbara Kruger, and the generation's father figure, John Baldessari. Others have fallen out of the limelight; still others were and remain relatively obscure.

In his catalogue for the show, Douglas Eklund, the Met's associate curator for photography, mentions the works' "often daunting intellectual rigor," which may account for why this admirable project ultimately, for me, fell a bit flat. In most cases (with notable exceptions), I appreciated the innovative, rule-breaking concepts that inform the "Pictures" pictures, without finding them moving, engaging or involving, let alone visually seductive.

But there's a critic whose views are certainly of far greater interest than mine or even than the judgments of leading members of the art-scribe tribe---seasoned observers like NY Times' Holland Cotter (who praised the Met for having "finally made a big leap into the present, or near-present") and the less enthusiastic Peter Schjeldahl of the New Yorker (who regarded much of the show as "slipshod, though often arresting and occasionally fun").

The person I was most interested in hearing from is curator/critic Douglas Crimp, who was a seminal figure at that moment of contemporary art history and is now an art history professor at the University of Rochester. It was he who first identified the affinities of this group of artists and their creative progeny as a new, important development, when he curated and wrote the text for the 1977 "Pictures" exhibition that provided the seed from which the Met's show grew. The enduring influence of that small show and the Crimp's related essay far exceeded expectations when the display of five artists---Robert Longo, Jack Goldstein, Sherrie Levine, Troy Brauntuch and Philip Smith (the last of whom has been snubbed by the Met's show and catalogue)---opened at Artists Space, a feisty alternative venue in New York.

Having been told at the press preview that Crimp himself was present among us (although all public remarks came from Eklund), I cornered him (as luck would have it) in front of works by his favorite artist in the show, Louise Lawler, whose reputation may get the biggest boost from this Metropolitan Museum exposure.

In the spirit of "Pictures," I'm appropriating Crimp's comments for my own work. (I'm the "Q"; he's the "A.")

Q: What's your take on the Met's take on a subject in which you had been so involved?

A: There's been an uptake of the "Pictures" exhibition that's continued for about 32 years now. It's been a very long process of being tied to this moment and that little exhibition that I did at Artists Space. I guess at this point I can say I'm pretty detached from it. Of course I'm also extremely attached, but I'm detached insofar as I've watched the process of something I did and a couple of texts that I wrote become a part of history. I've realized over time that you can't control the way history is made.

Q: If you could control it, how would you do things differently than this [the Met's show]?

A: I have no interest in controlling. I did something: I did a little exhibition; I wrote a text; I rewrote the text and published it a couple of years later in "October." It had effects. A lot of it is very gratifying to me. A lot of the attention has been paid to that little exhibition, but also to what I wrote about a group of artists and a phenomenon.

It's been interesting to see how much that has had an effect and I guess it has proved to me that all of us who participate are making art's meanings---the viewers of art, the critics of art, obviously the artists and the museums that make exhibitions---all of these constitute meaning in works of art. Meanings don't inhere in the objects themselves. They actually have to do with reception.

Q: Are the meanings that you see here different from the meanings that you intended back then and the meanings that you would attribute to these things now? How does your perspective differ from the point of view reflected in this exhibition?

A: It's not so much about my being married to what I thought then. I don't even know what I thought then, because I thought so many many things subsequently. It's more about what I think now.

In what Doug [Eklund] was just saying [in his remarks to the press], he gave a certain amount of attention to the importance of women and I think that has to be really emphasized. In his first wall text, he mentions feminism but then he goes on to define the influence of feminism as something like, "It doesn't matter what the gender of the artist is." [The wall text stated that feminism "made it possible for woman artists to define themselves as artists who happened to be women."]

I think that's NOT the lesson of feminism. The lesson of feminism is in the kind of art that's being made and the kinds or propositions that were being made through the art---the critique of originality, for example, which is something I already argued for early on with respect to Sherrie Levine and Cindy Sherman. I think that's a feminist perspective and that is a crucial aspect of this formation of artists. I didn't recognize that at the time.

I don't think that the work of Louise Lawler---probably the artist I feel closest to, in relation to my subsequent work---can be understood without taking account of second-wave feminism.


Louise Lawler, "Pollock and Tureen," 1984, Metropolitan Museum, image courtesy of the artist and Metro Pictures

Q: Do you have a more political take on all of this than we're seeing here?

A: I don't know, but what struck me about the Sarah Charlesworth piece is that it actually was not just a photograph but [related to] a particular political event [the kidnapping by the Italian Red Brigade of Prime Minister Aldo Moro]. I'd have to read the catalogue to know how he [Eklund] is dealing with the politics of it. [Eklund sticks with how "conceptually astute" the piece is. It shows photographs that appeared on various newspapers' front pages on the day when Moro's hostage picture was published. His image is the small one on The Times; second from top on The Guardian.]


Sarah Charlesworth, "April 21, 1978" (detail), from the series Modern History, 1978, Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art

Q: What do you make of Philip Smith's absence from the Met's show?

A: He was not so much of the group, of the social world, of the people who formulated this. He's gay and this [the Met's show] is a very straight configuration of artists. I don't know what's happened to him, career-wise. It's a slightly touchy subject: I think Philip is upset, reasonably.

What's more interesting is that four of the five continue to be artists that we think about. [Crimp also noted that he himself had omitted Smith and added Sherman in his second essay on "Pictures," published in "October" magazine. Eklund later told me that he had made a "curatorial decision" to exclude Smith: "I didn't respond to his work strongly enough to include it."]

Q: Are you bemused that your exhibition became such a watershed moment?

A: I never thought this work would end up in the Metropolitan Museum. For me, it was totally associated with alternative space. It was truly alternative.

Q: How does this show relate to the Shepard Fairey controversy?

A: These were among the artists who tested the copyright laws and the whole notion of appropriating images became a kind of discourse, so younger artists could pick up on it very easily.

Q: Do you think the Fairey controversy is making a mountain out of a molehill, because we've already established the appropriateness of this type of use by artists?

A: No, because copyright is still a huge legal issue. I myself have huge issues with the notion of "fair use"---whether or not a critic should be able to publish an image without having to pay huge rights fees or, for that matter, to clear the text with the estate of the artist to make sure that they control what can be said. I think that copyright comes into conflict with critical discourse.

When I asked the Met's curator about the relevance of the show to the Fairey-Associated Press contretemps, Eklund noted that for five years he's been largely focused on this exhibition project: "I only recognize the name [Fairey] and that it is something involving Obama. I've barely followed it."

Sometimes we can become a bit too fixated on our own work!

The Founders: Bertha and Edward Rose

The Rose Family is now contending that closing or repurposing Brandeis University's Rose Art Museum would violate the terms of the will of their forebear, Edward Rose, founding donor of the museum.

Alana Abramson of the student newspaper, The Justice, reports:

Meryl Rose [a Rose Museum board member] said that she does not believe the University's actions, despite its expressed intentions to keep the Rose open as a public museum, have been in accordance with the will.

Here is the relevant excerpt from the Edward Rose's Dec. 12, 1974 will, sent to me by Fred Hopengarten, an attorney and Rose Family member:

My said wife and I understand that Brandeis has agreed that the Rose Art Museum will be maintained in perpetuity as the only art museum at Brandeis [emphasis added]; and that Brandeis' permanent collection of works of art by major artists will be housed and exhibited in the Rose Art Museum; but Brandeis reserves the right to build and establish subsidiary or ancillary structures for its teaching facilities in the fine arts and for temporary exhibits of contemporary or experimental paintings, sculpture or other works of art, it being understood that none of these ancillary structures shall be designated as art museums.

The latest of Brandeis' ever-changing plans for the museum building call for it to close temporarily after its current exhibitions end, and re-open on July 22, while deliberations about its future continue.

About this, Meryl Rose commented to The Justice:

Up until this latest notice that went out, the University was going to turn it into a student art center. When it became apparent that they couldn't do that, now they are trying to turn it into a museum. But, you know, there are certain things inherent to running a museum that they are not doing....This is all about selling art, so they are removing the people [including director Michael Rush] protective of this collection.

The family has been consulting with lawyers.

WARNING: This post includes graphic content that will cause emotional distress to anyone who cares about art museums (i.e., all of you).

When I visited the former home of the University of Iowa Museum of Art in Iowa City earlier this month, the lettering announcing its past purpose had not yet been removed from its façade (as it has been now):



This 1969 building, emptied and evacuated due to last June's Iowa River flood (and now housing some music rehearsal rooms), had been designed by the firm of Harrison and Abramovitz, whose partners were: Wallace Harrison, Nelson Rockefeller's favorite architect, who designed Lincoln Center's Metropolitan Opera House and the Empire State Plaza (the state government complex in Albany, NY); and Max Abramovitz, best known as the architect for Philharmonic Hall (now Avery Fisher Hall) in New York's Lincoln Center.

You can see how close the river is, through the window of the desolate ex-museum:



The darkened area of the wall in the sunken sculpture court (below the level of the top of the staircase) shows how far the water rose:



But more harrowing was the invasion of floodwater in the art storage area. As luck would have it, that influx stopped just below the lower edge of the racks where paintings were hung. Here's Steve Erickson, the museum's preparator, indicating the bottom of those racks, a bit below knee height:



Steve told me there was scant damage to artworks: About six pieces of sculpture had touched water but were reparable and "some prints got a little cockled from the humidity."

When it was clear that the river would overflow its banks, Erickson and other museum staffers labored mightily to get out whatever objects they could before they were ordered to leave the premises. (Melissa Hueting, assistant to the museum's director and my guide last week through the abandoned museum, had to evacuate her own home, as well.)

Ceramics, less vulnerable to moisture, remained temporarily within the building, but were placed on higher shelves:



Eventually, everything was shipped to storage in Chicago. Now it's gradually being transferred to the Figge Art Museum in Davenport, IA, which will display some on a rotating basis and store the rest. (The first exhibition has just opened.) Erickson told me that about two-thirds of the university's works are still in Chicago; it will take several months to move everything to the Figge.

Here are university museum's exhibition labels, still on the wall, but curling due to the moisture that pervaded the building. They are the sorry remnants of the aborted exhibition, The Power of Line: European and American Etching Revival Prints from the Lee Collection:



Here, in happier days, is that same wall, while the final prints exhibition was being admired by visitors. (The 300-item collection of J. Thomas and Debra Gabrielson Lee had been given to the museum in 2006.):



These now-empty cases for ceramics had been created and installed just two years ago:



And saddest of all, here is where the celebrated Pollock once hung:



That teeshirt I'm wearing is part of the museum's flood-recovery campaign. It bears a picture of Iowa's Pollock in a lifeboat (and has become my favorite exercise top!):



If you crave it too, the museum's home page (scroll down) tells you how to acquire it for $15. Proceeds will be applied towards finding "innovative ways to make the museum's collection visible to the community during the UIMA's displacement resulting from the summer flooding."

[Full disclosure: I was compensated by the University of Iowa for my recent lecture on deaccessioning. Speaking of compensation, many thanks to CultureGrrl Donors 34, 35, 36 and 37, from Princeton, NJ, and Arlington, VA, Washington, DC, and Denver, CO.]

COMING SOON: On a happier note, images from the Figge Museum's first show drawn from the University of Iowa's rescued collection.

Tom Freudenheim, the Smithsonian Institution's former assistant secretary for museums, responds to comments (at the end of this post) about three works by Eakins to be sold at Christie's on May 20 by the Hirshhorn Museum, Washington (which is part of the Smithsonian):

The Hirshhorn Museum has disposed of stuff regularly for years. But Joe Hirshhorn's gift specifically allowed for that---proceeds to buy new art. So theoretically, there's an excuse not to transfer the works to the Smithsonian American Art Museum.

I always felt that this gradual erosion of Joe's collection simply neutered it, and made it gradually like every other modern art museum, without the special character it had as Joe's collection. He used to buy up a whole show of works, indiscriminately sucking up stuff.  But that meant it was a really interesting, if uneven, collection. 

Soon it will like every other collection---one of this, one of that. At least SAAM still has an idiosyncratic collection, because there's all this American stuff that makes for a fuller history of American art.

Montclair Art Museum

Yesterday, I reported that I had not yet received from the Montclair Art Museum the list of deaccessions I had been promised. (I commented further on the Montclair disposals here and here.)

Today, the list of consignments to Christie's (including the three June sales, whose details are not yet posted on the auction house's website) was sent to my inbox by Raechel Lutz, assistant to the museum's director, Lora Urbanelli. I still have not received details about the costume deaccessions that are scheduled (along with items from other consignors, including the Cleveland Museum of Art) to be auctioned tomorrow in New York, at a sale conducted by Augusta Auctions.

Among the many items on the list that I just received from Montclair are: Gilbert Stuart portraits of "Thomas Dawson, 1st Viscount Cremorne" and "William Robert Fitzgerald, 2nd Duke of Leinster," to be offered at Christie's on June 4; Audubon's "The Birds of America," seven volumes, offered there on June 24.

In the interest of furthering Montclair's transparency, I'm reproducing the entire list that it sent me, at the link below. It would have been far better if you could have found this compendium posted on the museum's own website (in the manner of the Indianapolis Museum of Art's new deaccession database, which should become every museum's gold standard for full disclosure).

As I write this, I'm listening to my life's dominent soundtrack, WQXR, now playing the final triumphant movement of the Brahms Symphony No. 1 with Zubin Mehta, erstwhile NY Philharmonic music director, conducting the Israel Philharmonic. Owned by the NY Times, WQXR has been New York City's only all-classical music station since the lamentable 1974 demise of the even better WNCN.

Can this happen again? Today's NY Post reports:

Rumors are raging that top suits have discussed putting classical radio station WQXR (96.3 FM) on the block to shore up the company's dwindling cash stash....One interested party might be ESPN, which is said to want an FM outlet for its WEPN (1050 AM) sports programming, which includes Knick, Jet and Ranger games but can't be heard clearly in parts of the metro area.

I'm not a television watcher, and one of my most annoying chores whenever I travel is roaming the radio, trying to find one station that I can contentedly stick to in the hotel room. I usually settle for a public radio station, where there's at least some good music amidst the talk. I guess I need to get with the 21st century and listen to WQXR (while I still can) via webstream, if I happen to bring a laptop.

And I suppose that's part of the problem: The classical radio audience probably skews to people of my advanced middle age and older. But if New York, the nation's (if not the world's) capital of classical music, can't support at least one classical station, it's the end of civilization as I know it.

I hope these sports-trump-culture rumors (published on the Post's "Page Six," its gossip compendium) are a bad joke, or at least unfounded.

Montclair Art Museum's collection handbook

On Friday, I commented that except for the Pollock, the deaccessioning by the Montclair (NJ) Art Museum next month at Christie's "appears to be mostly a housecleaning."

Wrong.

I took a short drive over to the museum yesterday and was struck anew by the high quality of its American holdings from the 18th and 19th century, as well as the intelligence and helpfulness of the labels elucidating those works. At the end of my visit, I stopped in at the bookstore to purchase a copy of the museum's 2002 handbook, Montclair Art Museum: Selected Works.

I saw immediately that the Pollock was included---described in the handbook as dating "from the height of Pollock's career and his most productive year as a draftsman [1951]." But when I returned home to compare this compilation with the list of works to be auctioned next month, I found two additional matches, accompanied by descriptions that could now (merely seven years since the handbook's publication) serve as fodder for auction-catalogue copy:


John Francis, "Still Life with Fruit and Nuts," 1868, estimated to sell for $15,000-25,000 on May 20 at Christie's American sale

From the handbook:

"Still Life with Fruit and Nuts" is a Peale-type dessert piece, which attracted a wide audience. With a soft application of paint, Francis distinguishes each morsel for its individual beauty.

George L.K. Morris, "Labyrinth," 1957, estimated to sell for $50,000-70,000 on May 20 at Christie's American sale

From the handbook:

"Labyrinth" is a dynamic composition of strong but subtle colors, enlivened by the bold use of black and white. The centrifugal arrangement of the interlocking shapes and their gradual reduction in size toward the center create an illusion of depth.

I still don't know the identities of the Montclair castoffs to be included in three June sales at Christie's. (Old Masters: 2 Montclair consignments; Interiors: 14; Books: 1; all will eventually be searchable on Christie's site.) Nor have I gotten the list of costumes from Montclair to be sold by Augusta Auctions in New York on Wednesday. Although the museum's director, Lora Urbanelli, told me last Wednesday that she would have someone send me the list of consignments "tomorrow" (that is, last Thursday), I have received nothing so far. My e-mailed request to Augusta Auctions was likewise unanswered.

It appears that the sales are problematic not merely because their proceeds will do double duty (to be used not only for art purchases but also to augment the total endowment, satisfying requirements related to the museum's bond issue). Montclair, it now appears, also deserves scrutiny for jettisoning three works that a few years ago were deemed by the museum itself to be important enough to the collection for inclusion among only about 200 objects chosen for the handbook (at a time when its total holdings numbered about 15,000).

Meanwhile, John Spencer, a CultureGrrl reader who says he has no artworld connections but is "just an anguished layman," has called my attention to "more deaccession craziness," this time by the Hirshhorn Museum, part of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, which had consigned six works to Christie's. My correspondent wrote:

The Hirshhorn is jettisoning three paintings by Thomas Eakins [here, here and, most importantly, here]. No doubt this is being justified as removing works not in line with the Hirshhorn's role as the "modern and contemporary" branch of the Smithsonian. But in any sane world they would simply be transferred to the Smithsonian American Art Museum, which, to my recollection, isn't exactly drowning in Eakins masterworks.

Joseph Hirshhorn did deed his collection to the nation, right? I don't care what building they're kept in, but it's outrageous that the "nation's attic," located in the nation's capital, has no room for works by arguably the nation's greatest painter.

Here are two Eakinses that SAAM owns, neither of which appears to be of the quality of the considerably larger Robert C. Ogden portrait:


Thomas Eakins, "Robert C. Ogden," 1904, estimated to sell from the Hirshhorn's collection for $400,000-600,000 on May 20 at Christie's American sale

While we continue to sort all this out, many thanks go out to CultureGrrl Donors 29, 30, 31, 32 and 33, from Brooklyn; Chadds Ford, PA; Manhattan; Natick, MA; and Melbourne, Australia. This is, as I've mentioned, my last week of blogging-as-usual, after which I'll be sending e-mail blasts, with links to my (less frequent) posts, to those who have donated $5 or more. (Please click the button in the middle column, if you wish to donate.)

Jackson Pollock, "Untitled," 1951, estimated to sell for $400,000-$600,000 on May 13 at Christie's Postwar and Contemporary evening sale

Above is the star lot from list of works consigned by the Montclair Art Museum for sale next month at Christie's. Most (including works by Bierstadt, Homer, Glackens, Henri) will be offered in the May 20 American sale; one, the Pollock pictured above, will be in the May 13 Postwar and Contemporary evening sale, and three works (Reinhardt, Motherwell, Stamos) in the May 14 Postwar and Contemporary morning sale.

With the exception of the Pollock (more on that below), this appears to be mostly a housecleaning. But to my mind (as I discussed here), the use of the proceeds to do double duty---shoring up the endowment to meet the requirements of a bond issue---runs contrary to the Association of Art Museum Director's stipulation that art sale proceeds may be used ONLY for acquisitions. As you will see below, Dan Monroe, director of the Peabody Essex Museum, Salem, MA, and chair of AAMD's Art Issues Committee, disagrees with me.

But first, let's review AAMD's written policy. It specifically states:

Proceeds from a deaccessioned work are used only to acquire other works of art---the proceeds are never used as operating funds, to build a general endowment [emphasis added], or for any other expenses.

While the proceeds will, if all goes according to plan, be used for acquisitions, the money is also being used to keep the total endowment at the level (the amount of which I have not yet been able to determine) needed to meet the requirements of the bonds. Christopher Knight of the LA Times recently reported that the endowment is about $1 million shy of what's required under the terms of the bond issue. (I have sought confirmation of this from Montclair as part of a list of queries still pending.) The bonds were issued on June 14, 2000, with a par value of $6 million. Some $1.08 million of that has been redeemed to date. The bonds' maturity date is July 1, 2020.

Lora Urbanelli, director of the museum, told me in an e-mail that it is wrong to say that Montclair's deaccession proceeds will be "backing the bonds." However, their use to satisfy bond requirements does mean that they are functioning as evidence to bond purchasers that the museum is fiscally sound and has enough cash to pay interest and principle, in the event of financial difficulty.

Here's what Dan Monroe of AAMD wrote to me about Montclair's unorthodox use of art sale proceeds:

AAMD's policy regarding use of funds obtained through deaccessions states that proceeds from such sales may only be used for new acquisitions. Placing funds derived from deaccessions in an endowment restricted only to acquisitions is entirely consistent with AAMD policy since the funds generated by such an endowment may only be used for acquisitions.

To argue that Montclair's restricted endowment for acquisitions is being used for a second and improper "purpose" that conflicts with AAMD policy because the value of this endowment may be part of Montclair's bond covenants is to conflate the meaning of "purpose." The purpose of the endowment is not satisfaction of bond covenants; it is support of art acquisitions. That Montclair's restricted endowment for acquisitions may enter into bond covenants does not imply a purpose other than acquisitions.

Do you have specific information to show that Montclair has taken any steps to jeopardize its acquisition endowment? We do not. Law controls management and use of restricted endowment funds. To our knowledge, Montclair has done nothing illegal in its use and management of endowment.

Urbanelli assured me in an e-mail that her museum has "the resources and the business model in place to pay them [the bonds] back over a long period of time. Their repayment is not, has never been, and we expect will never be, a concern."

But who ever thought that Lehman Brothers would collapse? We live in uncertain times.

Although Urbanelli told me that the bonds were "issued by the State of New Jersey," the Buy NJ Bonds office of the State of New Jersey informed me by e-mail that "the New Jersey Economic Development Authority issued those bonds, which are not backed by the State of New Jersey." Montclair Art Museum board member Steven Plofker, a real estate developer, investor and attorney, is also a board member of NJEDA, the bond issuer.

As for the new Pollock on the block, Carol Vogel of the NY Times (scroll down) reported:

The classic drip image is delicate, as well as light-sensitive, and therefore cannot be shown often. Among the factors the museum considered, Ms. Urbanelli said, was whether "it really matters if we have a Pollock drip when you can take a bus and be in the city in 20 minutes, where you can see lots of work by Pollock." [I'm a New Jerseyan; that bus must have found ways to evade speeding tickets and/or traffic.]

Urbanelli may have told Vogel that the Pollock can't be shown often, but in fact it was exhibited in eight museum shows in the last 21 years (including five at Montclair).

Most notably, it was part of the Guggenheim Museum's acclaimed 2006 exhibition, No Limits, Just Edges: Jackson Pollock Paintings on Paper, which also displayed a great work that never should have been sold from the collection of the Museum of Modern Art---Pollock's "Number 12, 1949," a colorful, gem-like classic drip painting on paper auctioned by that museum in 2004 for $11.66-million. (MoMA's castoff had appeared, prior to its sale, in about 20 exhibitions, several at MoMA.)

The Montclair Museum has also shopped its closet for disposables from from its costume collection, to be sold in New York this Wednesday by Augusta Auctions, a specialist in vintage clothing and textiles.

It seems clear to me that these disposals, which Montclair tellingly describes as part of its "Financial Security Plan," are not only about getting money to acquire art. Their timing, at the depths of the bear market, bespeaks a need to come up quickly with some cash to shore up an endowment that, according to the museum's press release, plummeted from $8 million to $6 million since July 1.

The museum's recently posted Q&A, revealed that a total of about 50 items are to be sold, for an estimated $3-$5 million.

And yesterday, Urbanelli published a letter in the Wall Street Journal, responding to James Panero's article that criticized Montclair's actions. She detailed the benefits of the disposals, without ever alluding to, let alone addressing, the specific practice that Panero had criticized---the use of art proceeds to satisfy bond requirements.

I think AAMD needs to rethink this issue. It's another slippery slope that may entice other financially pressed institutions if it's not placed off-limits.

UPDATE: Just as I posted this, I got word from Christie's that it will be selling a total of 54 Montclair consignments in six different sales (three in June), estimated to bring a total of $2.88-4.3 million.

The ghosts of letters removed this week from the façade of the University of Iowa Museum of Art

Pamela White, interim director of the University of Iowa Museum of Art and director of the university's museum studies program, had planned an upbeat trip for my stay in Iowa City, where recovery from last June's damaging flood may cost the university some $750 million, partially reimbursed by the Federal Emergency Management Agency. In December, according to White, FEMA had indicated it might contribute to the cost of a new art facility, but in January the federal agency changed its mind, on the (waterlogged) grounds that the existing building is still structurally sound and does not need to be replaced.

Pam strongly opposes returning the art collection to a site subject to the vagaries of the Iowa River. She believes that a new art facility will (perhaps in the distant future, depending on funds and university priorities) need to be constructed, out of harm's way. In the meantime, temporary exhibition facilities are being readied elsewhere on campus and parts of the museum's building are being used as temporary space for the displaced School of Music.

My attentive host (full disclosure: I was compensated for my campus speaking engagement) took me on a driving tour of campus and scheduled me to visit the university's two still-functioning museums (Natural History, Old Capitol Building), as well as the new installation at the Figge Art Museum, Davenport, of highlights from the university's art collection. (It's not just about the Pollock!)

But towards the end of my last full day in Iowa, I realized I was missing something---a firsthand look at what the flood had done to the museum and to the most architecturally arresting building that I caught sight of during our quick driving tour upon my arrival---the Steven Holl-designed Art Building West, opened in 2006 and closed by floodwaters a mere two years later. It housed classrooms, studios, the art library, gallery space, offices and an auditorium.

Melissa Hueting, Pam's assistant, helped me fill in my university tour, during the morning hours prior to my flight home.

Pam had told me that the university had originally wanted to locate Holl's building farther from the river, but the architect had fallen in love with the picturesque site by the pond, To the building's later detriment, he got his way:



Here's museum intern Claire Lekwa, demonstrating how far the floodwaters rose up the side of the building last June:


That light-colored horizontal line above her 5'5" head shows the highwater mark, clearly visible on Corten steel.

I couldn't get inside this building (although I did, as you'll see in a subsequent post, enter the former art museum). Only staffers can now get inside the Holl, fetching books requested from the shelves of the cantilevered art library, perched high above water level:



Here's a broad shot of the building (on the side facing away from the cantilever), now largely reduced to an abandoned hulk:



Along this side are panels of frosted glass, which for me called to mind the celebrated Holl facility that would open a year later---the 2007 Bloch Building of the Nelson-Atkins Museum, Kansas City, which I had visited just days earlier. Here's the glass wall of its Iowa precursor:



Here's the more alluring side, facing the pond (image from Steven Holl's website):



Here (again from Holl's website) is what the interior looked like, pre-flood. You can see the intricate, angled intersections of planes, as in the Bloch Building:



Repair and restoration of the Holl building were deemed eligible for FEMA funds; its hoped-for reopening, according to a university press release, is next December.

The museum's future is much more nebulous. A public meeting on that subject, held last Saturday with President Sally Mason and other university officials, resulted in an airing of problems, with no evident solution.

Terry McCoy of the Iowa City Gazette quotes Mason:

I wish I was here to tell you that we would be breaking ground on the new art museum immediately, but unfortunately, I can't tell you that....We're not exactly flush with cash. So that leaves us with some hard thinking to do in the short and long term.

The newly appointed "Museum Visioning Committee" has its work cut out for it. McCoy (no relation, I hope, to this McCoy) reports that "if the UI is to open another art museum, the fundraising must be done internally." So guess what one Gazette reader suggested, in a comment appended to McCoy's article:

Sell the Pollock.

To silence what is otherwise bound to be a constant refrain, deaccession legislation is urgently needed.

COMING SOON: My walk through the sadly abandoned art museum and, on a lighter note, my trip to the Figge.

StartUp

Since I always have more opinions and information on the artworld than the Mainstream Media can use, I've decided to throw some of those juicy tidbits into this blog. Stay tuned for my first post!

April 23, 2006 2:55 PM

It's now three years since I typed those sentences---Baby CultureGrrl's first gurgle. No one was actually "staying tuned." My first two weeks of posts were for imaginary readers only, as I eased into the blogging routine and took to it. I then sent my URL (not yet on ArtsJournal, of course) to a few artworld luminaries whose opinions I respected and who agreed this project should continue.

CultureGrrl has evolved over the years, in both obvious and subtle ways. It started with no photos, few links. After a while, I tried to cover (or at least link to) almost every story that I thought would interest my readers, as I got a growing sense that I was providing a useful service. I even posted some audio and video, including two off-key "singing podcasts," which some (with good reason) consider the nadir of my career.

But being a one-woman art newswire (and cabaret entertainer) ultimately became too exhausting. I found myself feverishly posting all day and begrudging time spent on in-depth, mainstream media projects---not a healthy professional or intellectual lifestyle.

Now, my posts are fewer and longer, as I try to focus on events and issues to which I feel I can provide added value---information not already easily available elsewhere, commentary and analysis that are outside the norm or against the grain. I'm an equal-opportunity irritant.

My fan base has grown, especially among art museum professionals, who may not be familiar with Lee Rosenbaum, mild-mannered, mainstream-media scribe, but have usually followed the journalistic adventures of the caped crusader, CultureGrrl.

I've got plenty of brand recognition, but barely any income to show for it, notwithstanding my latest innovation---the desperate and annoying "CultureGrrl Fund Drive." (Hey, do you see that yellow button in the middle column? You can still contribute!)

What I do have (and greatly cherish) is a warm, fond relationship with my readers, my "art-lings," who are very much on my mind as I reluctantly cease daily posting, effective May 1. This coming week will be blogging-as-usual, after which I will continue popping a post, hopefully a couple of times a week, if there's something I'm burning to share.

To ease you into this, for everyone who donates (or has already donated) five dollars or more, I'll send out e-mail blasts that link to whatever I do post. (Or you can just check the blog occasionally, as always, or subscribe to the blog's feed, which is free.) If you donate or have donated, please click the "Contact Me" link in my middle column and send me a message to be included on this mailing list, if you so desire.

But for now, let's forget about these changes and get back to our regular gig. I still have a few good stories to share with you.

For what it's worth, I have responded to aspersions cast on my accuracy that were posted today by another ArtsJournal blogger (to whom I shall not link). My response can be found as an update at the end of the post that my detractor, in error, alleges to be "in error." [And now I've updated the update, at the same link.]

And NOW, I've updated the update of the update.

Please stop me before I update again!

Attorney David Bright and I field questions after speaking on deaccessioning at the University of Iowa

Near the end of my talk last Wednesday at the University of Iowa (where the art museum, best known for its monumental 1943 Pollock, has been permanently closed by flooding), I advocated that the Brodsky bill, designed to regulate deaccessioning in New York State, become a national model.

I told the large, receptive audience:

I think that we need such legislation throughout the country, because, as we've seen with some of these cases [which I described in my presentation], self-policing by the profession has not been enough. With legislation, there would be far less ambiguity and less wiggle room.

Pamela White, interim director of the University of Iowa Museum of Art, agreed. After I finished my talk, both she and my respondent, Iowa City-based attorney David Bright (who lived up to his name by providing astute, rapid-fire legal commentary on most of the disposals I discussed) supported my call for legislation that would give a clear answer (no) to the question of whether museums and universities can sell art to defray operating expenses, capital expenses or debts. Codified guidelines would make it much easier for museum directors like Pam to deflect pressure to monetize masterpieces (the Pollock, in Iowa's case) to address urgent financial needs (such as flood recovery).

That said, I think the Brodsky bill still needs some work before it qualifies as model legislation.

For one thing, it currently states that "in no event...shall proceeds derived from the disposal of an item or items from a museum's collection be used for traditional and customary operating expenses." I think other prohibited uses should be added---capital expenses and repayment of debt. I also believe that the language allowing deaccessions "to accomplish refinement of collections" is overly broad and should be scrapped.

What's more (and most controversially), I believe that the provision requiring a museum wishing to dispose of an object to "make a good faith effort to sell or transfer such item to another museum in New York State" (or, failing that, "to another public museum") should be made even stronger: It should require a good faith effort to TRANSFER, not to sell, the object. That's because (as I've often argued) this is the public's patrimony, which we've paid for with the tax deductions taken by donors and with the tax exemptions received by museums for fulfilling their public purpose. We should not have to pay for these objects twice, and museums shouldn't address their financial needs at the expense of sister institutions.

As at the New York State museum conference where I spoke last month, I felt on Wednesday that I was preaching to the choir (although one Iowan did speak out on behalf of Fisk's desire to sell a half-share of its Stieglitz Collection to Alice Walton's Crystal Bridges Museum). Maybe some day I'll get invited to a deaccession smackdown with Art Law Blogger Donn Zaretsky, just to make things more interesting!

In the meantime, many thanks to CultureGrrl Donors 29 and 30 from my new fan base in Davenport and Solon, IA.

COMING SOON: My photo essay from the university's former (now flood-ruined) art museum and from the Figge Art Museum, located an hour's drive away, in Davenport on the Mississippi River (also in a flood zone, but built to stay dry), which is currently home to highlights from the UIMA's modern and contemporary collection-in-exile. (For now, you can see some of the new Figge installation in KCRG-TV's video clip, here.)

Statue of Apollo as an archer (Apollo Saettante), Greek, manufactured before 146 B.C., copper alloy/bronze, 1.47 meters high, found in 1817 in Pompeii, near the Sanctuary of Apollo
National Archaeological Museum, Naples


Statue of an Ephebe (Youth) as a lampbearer, Roman, about 20-10 B.C., bronze with inlays of copper and glass, 1.49 meters high, from Pompeii's House of the Ephebe (Regio I, Insula VII, House 11), excavated in 1925
National Archaeological Museum, Naples

I gave you the first heads-up (or actually the second, after an Italian-language news report) on the loans (pictured above) coming to the Getty Museum from the National Archaeological Museum, Naples. The Corriere del Mezzogiorno article had indicated that the larger of the two works (the archer) would be on loan to the Getty for a maximum of five years.

But from information I recently received from the Getty, it now seems that the actual duration of the loan will be considerably shorter. This hit my inbox on Wednesday (when I was in Iowa), from the Getty's communications office:

The sculptures you mentioned have arrived at the Getty Villa on long-term loan from the Archaeological Museum in Naples. We'll be issuing a formal press release in a few weeks, when the first work (the Statue of Ephebe) goes on view. The Apollo Saettante will go on view in approximately one year, after technical analysis and conservation are complete, and both will remain on view until March 2011.

"Formal press release" or no, Suzanne Muchnic of the LA Times has much more on this story, here. (I previously reported on other Italy-to-Getty loans, from Florence, here.)

Holland Cotter

Holland Cotter, staff art critic for the NY Times since 1998, has just been named the winner of this year's Pulitzer Prize for distinguished criticism, "for his wide ranging reviews of art, from Manhattan to China, marked by acute observation, luminous writing and dramatic storytelling."

The specific articles that won him the prize are here, here and here.

The Pulitzer site, in its biographical description, took note of Cotter's special niche at the paper:

For the Times, he has written widely about "non-western" art and culture. In the 1990s, he introduced readers to a broad range of Asian contemporary art as the first wave of new art from China art was building and breaking. He helped bring contemporary art from India to the attention of a western audience.

The two finalists in criticism, as described on the Pulitzer site, were:

Inga Saffron of the Philadelphia Inquirer for her fascinating and convincing architectural critiques that boldly confront important topics, from urban planning issues to the newest skyscraper; and Sebastian Smee of the Boston Globe for his fresh, accessible and energetic reviews on the New England art scene, creating for readers a sense of discovery even as he provides discerning analysis.

In other words, art and architecture (not theater, music, film, food or fashion) ruled the day. That's even more noteworthy in light of the fact that the jury in this category has no visual arts-oriented members. What's more, art still isn't even mentioned in the Pulitzer's official description (scroll to last page) of its criticism category:

Q. What belongs in the Criticism category?
A. Critical work on such subjects as books, theater, television, movies, dance and architecture.

Despite the Pulitzer's stated interest in recognizing blogs and bloggers this year for the first time, the sole web-only journalist to have received recognition appears to have been Matt Wuerker of Politico, who was a finalist for editorial cartooning. (Steve Breen of the San Diego Union-Tribune won the gold in that category.)

ArtsJournal this year was excluded from eligible web-only sites, because it is "largely devoted to aggregating news produced by other entities and to commentary and reviews in various forms," in the words of Sig Gissler, administrator of the Pulitzers. This despite the fact that AJ's righthand column consists solely of original content (including original reporting). And "commentary and reviews" are what the categories of explanatory reporting, criticism and commentary are all about (or so I thought).

No matter. Change is coming. You don't need a weatherman (or a medal) to see which way the wind blows.

UPDATE: There is nothing "in error" about the last two paragraphs of this post, as another AJ blogger (to whom I shall not link), has alleged (after having barraged me with six e-mails in two days, demanding a correction).

My Feb. 12 letter from Sig Gissler, administrator of the Pulitzers (which I forwarded to the blogger after his first e-mail), clearly and explicitly stated that my submission would not be considered for the prize because ArtsJournal did not, in their judgment, meet the requirement that entries of online journalism come from websites "primarily dedicated to original news reporting."

I believe that the Pulitzers' stated opinion regarding AJ's website was in error, but that's not my call. At least Gissler tried to make it up to me:

Although entry fees are non-refundable, we will make an exception in your case because this is a transitional period for the Pulitzers. In due course, we will return your check. [They did, along with my materials.]

Maybe my detractor should retract his "correction" and ask for his money back. Anyway, the bottom line is: We're a couple of losers. (I'll say it, before someone else does!)

SECOND UPDATE: After I posted the above update, my blogging detractor sent me a copy of an e-mail that he indicated was addressed to him by Gissler on Feb. 18 (six days after I received my disqualification). It states that "upon reconsideration, ...after finding a sufficient degree of original reporting amid the interviews, reviews and commentary," the Pulitzer administration had decided to accept his entry. Why this difference in treatment? (My submission consisted exclusively of original reporting and commentary, on a story that I broke.) I have e-mailed Gissler to seek clarification.

In any event, I'll be gratified to learn that they now deem ArtsJournal worthy of Pulitzer consideration. (Better luck next year.)

THIRD UPDATE: Sig has responded. It seems that my blogging detractor was smart enough to make Gissler understand that his blog is a separate website (with original content), within a larger website, ArtsJournal (which aggregates news). The blog's individual website was eligible; the umbrella site (whose eligibility I had defended in my entry) was not. Go figure.

Technicalities aside, my entry was always a longshot, even if I had gotten past the starting gate. I just thought it would be fun to try. Some fun!

Edward de Vere, from an engraving by J. Brown after G.P. Harding, 1575

I know you're all probably expecting a complete and abundantly illustrated report on my recent trip to Iowa.

Patience, art-lings! Right now my thoughts stray to Elizabethan England.

That's because Saturday's Wall Street Journal featured a front-page article devoted to one of my cherished notions---the theory that "Shakespeare" was really Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford. De Vere was a widely traveled aristocrat of erudition and eclectic experience, whose claim to Shakespeare's oeuvre is favored by the senior Supreme Court Justice, John Paul Stevens (with some other Justices concurring).

Jess Bravin reports:

Since the 19th century, some have argued that only a nobleman could have produced writings so replete with intimate depictions of courtly life and exotic settings far beyond England. Dabbling in entertainments was considered undignified, the theory goes, so the author laundered his works through Shakespeare, a member of the Globe Theater's acting troupe.

Like Stevens, I find this theory compelling. I've been a de Vere-ian ever since watching a 1989 PBS FRONTLINE documentary, The Shakespeare Mystery, which laid out the case for Oxford over Stratford. But in reading about Justice Stevens' deliberations, I was surprised that this legally astute former English major didn't take note of the significant fact that legal imagery is to be found in much of Shakespeare's work, particularly the sonnets. As we learn from de Vere's biography, the Earl of Oxford, among his many accomplishments, studied law.

Distinguished Harvard scholar Helen Vendler, in her monumental The Art of Shakespeare's Sonnets, kept bumping up against poetic legalese:

Shakespeare's language for human transactions here [in Sonnet 134], as elsewhere in the "Sonnets," is ruthlessly legal.

So is the language of the plays---to wit, "the law's delay," incongruously inserted in the litany of hardships cited by Hamlet as reasons for considering suicide in his "To be, or not to be" speech.

Some commentators believe de Vere is hiding in plain sight in Sonnet 125, where (in the first line) the author reveals that he "bore the canopy." De Vere had held the canopy over Queen Elizabeth when she celebrated her victory over the Spanish Armada.

To my mind, the author drops the broadest hints about his secret bard-ship in two of the 154 deeply personal, double entendre-filled sonnets---numbers 135 and 136. Both are littered with heavy-handed puns on "Will" (short for "William"). Vendler calls 135 "perplexing, even maddening" and asks about 136, "Is there anything serious about this sonnet?"

More than she realizes.

These seeming trifles have an important biographical, if not literary, role in the canon, because they deal not only with a love triangle (as Vendler recognizes), but also, more importantly, with a disguised identity---a recurring Shakespearean device that may also have defined de Vere's life.

Here's my hypothesis: De Vere's fickle lover finds the Earl's wit and eloquence to be less alluring than Shakespeare's literary brilliance. To regain a lover tempted by the bard's prodigious verbal charms, de Vere outs himself. In these sonnets, he plainly reveals that it is he, Edward, who is the real "Will." Shakespeare is just his frontman.

This self-revelation begins in the two less maniacally pun-drunk poems that precede the two "Will" sonnets. In Sonnet 133, the poet bemoans his lady's new attraction to his friend, whom he significantly calls "my next self." In 134, he reveals that this friend is not only his alter ego, but also one who "learned but surety-like to write for me."

The plot thickens in the next two sonnets, where the poet's repetitive riffs on "Will" hammer away at the point that the lady's two beloveds are really one. He begins 135 by humorously informing her that she has "Will to boot, and Will in over-plus" and then continues to cram the poem with a superfluity of "Wills." Perhaps most revealingly (and erotically), he asks her "to hide my will in thine," inviting her complicity in guarding his hidden identity. In the final line, he conclusively unites the dual personae: "Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.'"

As in the previous sonnet, he ends 136 by identifying himself as the singular Will, in a couplet that seems exasperatingly lame, unless its hidden significance is understood:

Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
And then thou lov'st me, for my name is Will.

Vendler derides this line as "naively triumphant (as though the mistress hadn't known all along what his name is)." But it's quite possible that de Vere's paramour actually never did know about his wily Will-ness. After all, the poet who penned these intimate and sometimes transgressive sonnets may have prudently kept them locked away---yet another secret.

What we do know is that they were first published in 1609, when de Vere, who might have been embarrassed by such self-exposure, was five years dead. Shakespeare, his surrogate self, had seven years yet to live.

And now I have also outed myself---at heart and by training an English major, not an art history major.

If you happen to find yourself in England on Wednesday, the question of "Who Was Shakespeare?" will be explored at Brunel University in Uxbridge by two distinguished Shakespearean actors---Mark Rylance (sometimes found moonlighting in inconsequential farce) and Sir Derek Jacobi.

Do you think they might transfer this provocative production to New York?

Nationally Acclaimed Art Critic." (Why am I never called that in New York?) This report also featured a cameo role for CultureSpouse (who had no clue that he was on camera):

In her Mar. 26 NY Times article (scroll down) describing the planned deaccessions by the Montclair (NJ) Art Museum, Carol Vogel reported:

Officials at Montclair were quick to say that the proceeds from any sale of art would go ONLY [emphasis added] toward purchasing other works, a practice that is consistent with the Association of Art Museum Directors policy.

But James Panero, in his article for yesterday's Wall Street Journal, tells the real story: Interviewing the museum's new director, Lora Urbanelli, he discovered that some proceeds from the planned sales, while eventually intended to fund art purchases (as required by the ethical guidelines of AAMD), will first be used to keep the museum's endowment at the level required to satisfy terms governing the institution's tax-exempt bonds, which had been issued to fund its expansion.

James says that "nothing in the AAM [American Association of Museums] or AAMD rules explicitly prevents museums from selling their art..., earmarking that revenue for future acquisitions, and then using the endowment money raised from the sales to back their loans."

I disagree.

As I wrote for a February 2003 Art in America article about an institution that tried this gambit before---the Guggenheim, AAMD's guidelines don't indicate that deaccession funds can perform double duty as bond collateral. On the contrary, they clearly stipulate that "funds (principal and interest) received from the disposal of any deaccessioned work of art must be used ONLY [emphasis added] for the acquisitions of works of art."

Here's more from my AiA report on the Guggenheim's prior misuse of deaccession funds:

The Guggenheim's reclassified funds for art purchases [obtained from deaccessions]...have enabled the museum to keep its endowment above the $35-million level required under the terms of a letter of credit collateralizing the bonds for the museum's expansion....

This is not the first time that the Guggenheim has put art-acquisition monies to a second use. In 1995, the museum gave itself a loan of $2 million from art-purchase funds, which it intended to repay by the end of 1996, according to its then deputy director for finance and administration, Robert Gebbie. When asked about this recently, museum officials said that the loan had been repaid.

Pamela White, interim director of the University of Iowa Museum of Art, poses in front of her museum's Pollock "Mural" at the Figge Art Museum, with Figge's executive director, Sean O'Harrow

I made friends (and probably some enemies) in Iowa with my posts (here, here, here, and here) about the University of Iowa Museum of Art's (thus far) successful effort to prevail over those who would like to monetize the museum's major Pollock to help pay for flood-damage recovery. I've been asked to speak this Wednesday on "When Values Collide: Financial Asset or Cultural Resource," as part of the university's Elliott Society Lecture Series. This discussion, as distinguished from my recent New York-focused talk in Tarrytown, will concentrate on the regrettably ample deaccession lore involving university art museums.

My talk has become even more timely, in light of the recent debate that's been engendered by a provocative pro-deaccessioning piece published in Art in America magazine by the Art Law Blogger, Donn Zaretsky. I respect Donn's legal expertise, and we've had a reasonable-people-can-disagree relationship on this issue. But his incessant and increasingly strident Deaccession Diatribes on his blog have, to my mind, become increasingly unreasonable.

Perhaps my best rebuttal is my own Q&A with the UIMA's Art Matters blog, posted Tuesday to whet people's appetite for my talk. (Here's the press release for the talk, posted today.)

Let me also specifically debunk, in this post, Donn's two Big Ideas, which I shall paraphrase:

---If museum collections are, in fact, held in public trust, then there's no damage to that trust if the works sold by museums are purchased by other museums.

First of all, the buyers of important works sold by museums are only sometimes other museums. And even if the public patrimony does manage to remain in the public domain, it does so at significant cost to the public. Those sold works (as I explain in greater detail in the above-linked Q&A), are already our stuff. Americans for whom museums hold these works in trust shouldn't have to pay for them twice.

I believe that if a museum truly has no use for some works in its collection, it should give those works to another public institution (as happened here and here), not seek financial gain from another public institution. What's already the public's patrimony deserves to remain so, undisturbed.

The bigger of Donn's Big Ideas merits more serious consideration, because it contains a grain of truth (again, paraphrased):

So what did I think of Younger Than Jesus?

I was enjoying a number of artists on the second floor (especially four brief video clips by Romanian artist Ciprian Muresan, including the hilarious "Untitled [Shoe Laces]), when my husband, who knows never to call me in a museum, buzzed me to say that my sister-in-law's mother, of whom I was very fond, had just died.

Not a direct hit, but enough impact to make me distrust my general sense of detachment from the art on the other floors. I'm lucky that I hadn't committed to covering this for anyone else, because, really, I can't do it justice. This "millennials'" mishmash wasn't what I needed just then for cultural solace; Grieg's "Six Lyric Pieces" for solo piano, which was on WQXR radio when I returned to my car, was the perfect calming balm...

...as was the next event on my schedule, a small celebration with my parents of my father's 95th(!) birthday. It was all the more precious, in light of the loss.

Tomorrow is the funeral and then the first Passover seder (at my son's future in-laws). Needless to say, blogging is not on the schedule.

My daughter and her boyfriend on a recent visit to the New Museum---two "millennials," as the new show calls their generation

Today is likely to be a non-posting day (except for this hasty entry), because I'm attending the press preview of the New Museum's Younger Than Jesus ("The Generational"). After that, I'm attending my own "generational"---my father's 95th birthday!

I'm really excited about this preview, because our invitation says this:

The 24 Hour Roman Reconstruction Project, a performance by artist Liz Glynn, will begin on April 6, and continue during this press event....During the preview you will experience the Reign of Caligula, marked by orgiastic feasting, musical performances, and ritual ablutions.

Okay, I'll skip my breakfast, the better to enjoy "orgiastic feasting." Should I also skip my shower in anticipation of "ablutions"? I'll be so disappointed if this performance is non-participatory!

The "Younger Than Jesus" generation (although you'll never catch this Jew calling them that) is my own children's generation, so I'll be interested to see if I gain some new insights here into their "sociological demographic." (More interesting might be prowling the galleries together with them.) I was glad to learn from director of special exhibitions Massimiliano Gioni that these young adults are not "foreswearing their parents" (even though we sometimes snap their photos without their knowledge).

From the press materials, the show doesn't seem quite as "international" as it purports to be. Some 20 of the 50 artists were born in and/or live in the U.S. Aren't those the folks we see every two years at the Whitney? And if you look at the helpful map, you'll see that parts of the world outside the U.S., Europe and the Middle East are barely (if at all) represented. What, no interesting artists could be found who were born in Canada, Russia, Australia? (The two artists they found from Africa no longer live there.)

Entrance to the inaugural show last September at Christie's Haunch of Venison gallery in New York

While we're on the subject of displays with museum-like pretentions that have mounted by commercial galleries and auction houses (such as Sotheby's current Steve Cohen show), I recently learned about the sudden flight of two former museum professionals from the New York branch of the Haunch of Venison gallery, owned by Christie's International.

At the end of last month, Robert Fitzpatrick, HOV's international managing director in charge of the New York operation, and Michael Rooks, HOV's chief curator, both quietly left their posts. Fitzpatrick was formerly director of the Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art; Rooks was formerly assistant curator at the same museum.

The gallery had just opened last September with Abstract Expressionism---A World Elsewhere. That non-selling show enhanced the posh emporium's museum-like allure, by including a number of loans from major institutions---a coup attributable to the stature of the gallery's staffers, as well as the show's curator, British art historian David Anfam.

The new directors for HOV's New York gallery---Barrett White and Emilio Steinberger---both have gigs at galleries, not museums, on their résumés. There are no current plans to fill the international managing directorship vacated by Fitzpatrick, who joined Haunch in January 2008. He is said to be interested in working independently with artists and cultural organizations; Rooks is said to be seeking a post in the nonprofit sector.

Could it be that the fit of museum practice and commercial purpose isn't all that comfortable after all?

Two helpful readers advised me to take note of the date (Apr. 1) of David Gill's bus-banner post on his Looting Matters blog (which I highlighted here), making me realize that my decision to stop blogging so feverishly has come none too soon!

One of my gentle helpers, a postdoctoral fellow at the Getty Villa, made me feel only slightly less stupid:

This is actually the second time today I have seen someone taken in by the image on Gill's blog! Liz Marlowe used it in a presentation this morning at the Roman Archaeology Conference.

She gave me the website where I could make my own CultureGrrl bus image, but when I (of course) tried to do it, the image wouldn't load. Do you think it's trying to tell me something? (i.e., "Stop with the vain [in both senses of the word] attempts at self-promotion!")

I just hope the wickedly witty classicist/blogger, Mary Beard of A Don's Life, doesn't get wind of this. Hey, at least I wasn't taken in by this fake auction-house news (as were many commenters on Ed Winkleman's blog).

Those who think I've been too blatantly self-promoting should get a load of what my British blogging buddy, David Gill, has just done to call attention to Looting Matters, my go-to source for cultural-property news.

Do you think I could plaster some CultureGrrl banners on NYC vehicles, as David has done in London?


"Stop messing about"?!?

I guess my NYC equivalent would have to be: "Cultcha Without CultureGrrl? Fuhgeddaboudit!" Gill says this bus fuss "has generated a huge amount of interest." Hey, I'll try anything!

On a more serious note, my French blogging buddy Didier Rykner of The Art Tribune found himself bounced off a public television program, where he had been scheduled to fulminate against the controversial Louvre Abu Dhabi.

Rykner reports:

There is no more need to wonder at the strange turn of events! An item published on 11 March in the satirical weekly, Le Canard Enchainé, tells us that the Louvre had clearly warned the channel: if I were interviewed, the president of the Louvre, Henri Loyrette, would not in turn grant an interview for the program. Obviously, Arte [the television station] cannot afford to be on bad terms with the Louvre. (They have production agreements together.)

So, on 18 April, viewers will see a documentary on French television which presents only a consensus, explaining just how fantastic the Louvre-Abou Dhabi is, as proven by the fact that it only raises positive reactions and praise!

Closer to home, Boston blogger Geoff Edgers is engaged in a more urgent form of self-promotion. ("Self-preservation" is more like it.)

Reacting to the shocking news that the financially pressed NY Times Co. might imminently shut down the Boston Globe, which it owns, Edgers rallied the arts troops. He got three major museum directors and the managing director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra to testify to the paper's importance in the city's cultural and civic life.

I do want Geoff to succeed in reuniting the Kinks, but I don't want him spending full-time on that project! It's unthinkable that Boston's premier newspaper could die at the hands of New York's premier paper. Having just heard the NY Times' cultural news editor, Sam Sifton, exult that his paper's financial troubles had not caused any decrease in the space allotted to the arts, and having read Times assistant managing editor Richard Berke's recent boast that the paper possessed sufficient resources to bankroll art critic Michael Kimmelman's farflung peregrinations, I find the Globe's global plight even harder to comprehend.

Is Edgers destined to join ArtsJournal's other mainstream-media expatriates? For his sake (and Boston's), I hope he keeps his current gig.

As for CultureGrrl's gig: With donations again stalled, we're imminently arriving at the end of this blog as a daily. Starting in May, it'll be weekly. (Okay, maybe twice a week.)

UPDATE: Oops! Gill's just joking (and I'm just gullible)!

Joachim Pissarro, who is both MoMA's adjunct curator and Steve Cohen's paid advisor, extolling the virtues of the collector and his collection at Sotheby's (David Norman, Sotheby's co-chairman of Impressionist & Modern Art, listens on left.)

Are commercial galleries and auction houses the new museums?

Lisa Dennison, Sotheby's chairman in North and South America (who, as former director and long-time curator of the Guggenheim Museum, has worked both sides of the street) says yes. She points to major shows organized by Gagosian, L&M Arts, Haunch of Venison and, of course, her own firm's current Steve Cohen "Women" show (images of its 20 artworks at this link) as evidence that museums are now "in crisis," in part because galleries and auction houses have the resources, connections and expertise to do what nonprofit institutions do, only faster.

I beg to differ.

Even Dennison conceded that museums may still have an edge when it comes to scholarship. Intelligent, insightful interpretation is what's glaringly absent from the Cohen show---a jaw-dropping array of a works that any curator would rush to embrace, were it not for the properly insurmountable ethical barrier against bestowing an institutional kiss upon a private collection that is not betrothed to a public museum.

To give this show a (very thin) scholarly veneer, the services of Joachim Pissarro were engaged for a brief catalogue essay (which I've already labeled "turgid") that is high on tangled verbiage, low on intellectual nourishment.

Unlike Dennison, Pissarro is working both sides of the street simultaneously (actually, both sidewalks and the roadbed). Joachim's current positions include:

---Art history professor and gallery director at Hunter College
---Adjunct curator at the Museum of Modern Art (where he was curator from 2003 until joining Hunter in 2007)
---Paid art advisor to Steve Cohen

At the press preview for the Cohen show, Pissarro told me he knew Steve before the collector "came on board to MoMA" (as member of its painting and sculpture committee, not its board of trustees). Cohen's hedge-fund firm, S.A.C. Capital Advisors, owns 5.9% of Sotheby's stock, so everyone stands to benefit if this important exhibition burnishes the auction house's and collection's reputations.

Here are excerpts from my conversation with Pissarro on the 10th floor of Sotheby's, usually the site of presale displays:

Rosenbaum: In advising Steve Cohen, what exactly are you doing? Are you advising on collecting activities?

Pissarro: Yes. When I was at MoMA, he and I were very close, discussing not only his own acquisitions, but also acquisitions that the museum was making. We were very much in dialogue. When I stepped down as full curator, I said, 'Why don't we continue to work as we used to work?' So there was a continuum, once I left MoMA. I focus on the research aspects, on the academic aspects, and Sandy Heller, who is also very, very close to him, works on other aspects....I do exactly what I would do at MoMA, to be honest with you---research on what is the importance of the work of art in general terms and in relative terms, in the context of the collection.

Rosenbaum: Are you are retainer to him?

Pissarro: Yes.

Rosenbaum: Were you [on retainer to Cohen] when you were at MoMA?

Pissarro: That you could not do at MoMA.

Rosenbaum: Are there any other collectors you work with?

Pissarro: No.

Rosenbaum: Is there any chance that this exhibition may become a selling preview? I know that there are no plans to sell at this time.

Pissarro: I have absolutely no idea of what Mr. Cohen's views are. I just can't comment on that, really.

CultureGrrl's comment is that the "porous" relationship (as Dennison termed it) between the museum world and the commercial world is becoming too permeable. I was relieved to hear that Pissarro was not on Cohen's payroll while he was a MoMA staffer. But I'm not at all convinced that his withdrawal to "adjunct" status is sufficient distance to render his dual role acceptable. (Pissarro curated the museum's recent Van Gogh and the Colors of the Night show, and told me he is in discussion with MoMA about other exhibition ideas.)

As for Pissarro's scholarship for Sotheby's: You cannot acquire the exhibition catalogue in which his essay appears. This rare book was printed as a "limited edition," distributed only to key staffers and select Sotheby's clients:



No copies of the slim volume were provided to the press, nor could it be purchased at the catalogue desk. But Sotheby's did kindly allow me to gaze upon it:


David Norman, modeling the Cohen tome

Peering inside, I found that the entries for individual works were essentially non-existent. This wasn't up to the high standards of the auction house's own sale catalogues---no information on provenance or exhibition history (and we've seen many of these works elsewhere), no "research on what is the importance of the work of art in general terms and in relative terms in the context of the collection," as Pissarro described his art-advisory function.

Unlike most museum shows, this masterpiece exhibition of drop-dead femmes fatales, expertly installed, was not only assembled quickly; it will also be taken down quickly. It opened yesterday, and you have only till Apr. 14 to ogle these ladies:

The banner at the defunct Salander O'Reilly Galleries

Meandering yesterday to the Frick Collection's Norton Simon show from the Sotheby's press preview for its Steve Cohen Show, which seemed more a promotion for Sotheby's than for Steve, I passed perchance (I picked up that word from the Cohen catalogue's turgid essay) right by the formerly palatial digs of Larry Salander's former gallery. There I saw workmen (actually workwomen) busy with ladders and plastic sheeting:

I feared it was only a matter of time before Regina Hackett, a refugee from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer (now online only), started sniping at me on my home turf, ArtsJournal, whose roster of bloggers she recently joined. On her now defunct "Art to Go" blog, she delighted in periodically taking personal potshots at me.

So it was today (in a post to which I won't link), when she linked to four of my pleas for financial support of CultureGrrl, and advised me to consult a fundraising expert. (Her link on the word "expert" is to a photo of a homeless man with tin cup.)

As I indicated in one of my cup-rattling posts, the only thing I find more distasteful than repeatedly soliciting regular readers for "voluntary subscriptions" is continuing this project in its current form, without significant remuneration.

That said, I'd like to recognize with gratitude the ad from the Shelburne Museum that now graces my righthand column. I had hoped for my ad space to be replete with museum, gallery and book publishers' offerings. But without an ad sales person, I've found that avenue of fundraising to be mostly a dead end. You have only to look at the arts sections in mainstream-media publications to know that this is a tough environment for art-related ad sales everywhere, not just in specialized niches like mine.

The CultureGrrl Fund Drive began promisingly in mid-February. But my list of financially generous readers now appears to be stuck at 24. My "Donate" button seems to have become vestigial. So, with much regret (but also some pride in what I created), I'm planning to repurpose this blog on or about Apr. 23, CultureGrrl's third anniversary. It will become an occasional outlet for my analysis and commentary, in the manner of some of the less active sites on ArtsJournal. If the financial recompense for blogging miraculously picks up, so will the pace of my posts. The button and the ad space remain at your disposal.

I'm sure there are some, like Regina, who will regard this cutback as a welcome development. And I know, from all the positive feedback I've received over the past three years, that many devoted readers will miss me, as I will you.

I'll end this maudlin maundering by responding to the one reader of Regina's blog, "CB," who commented on her swipe at me. CB wrote to Regina:

Thank you! Once, ok, I was thinking of donating...maybe I still will. But something about soliciting from barely-paid museum professionals seems a little off.

CB, I'm moved that you even thought of donating. The last thing I want to do is take bread from the mouths of struggling museum professionals. (Some of my readers, including several munificent donors, are not in that category.) It's time to earn my keep the old-fashioned way, by giving lectures (a relatively new endeavor for me, which I owe to the blog), writing mainstream-media articles and, I hope, getting a contract for the book that I've foolishly neglected in my blogging frenzy.

Barring a sudden surge of support, there will soon be far fewer posts. Still, I'll keep you posted occasionally on my thoughts and professional activities.

Speaking of repurposing: Do you know how the sumptuous space of the bankrupt, legally besieged Salander O'Reilly Galleries is being repurposed? COMING TOMORROW.

Since I told you that you simply MUST see the Philadelphia Museum's landmark Cézanne and Beyond show, I must let you know that it's just been extended beyond its original May 17 close date. You now have through May 31 (including Memorial Day) to catch curator Joe Rishel's consummate tour de force (or see it a second time). This gives new life to one wag's early title for the show, related to me by Joe: "Cézanne...an' on...an' on...an' on..."

The museum reports:

As of Apr. 1, some 134,000 tickets have been issued for "Cézanne and Beyond," with visitors coming from more than 39 states, including California, New Mexico, Texas and Utah, and from around the world, including Australia, Argentina, Belgium, Canada, France, Germany, Ireland, Japan, the Netherlands, Mexico, Switzerland and the United Kingdom.

I assume this show will be on the agenda of everyone attending the American Association of Museums' annual meeting in Philly, Apr. 30-May 4.

Carmine Branagan (left), director of the National Academy, showing CBS-TV's Martha Teichner an Eakins (top) that her museum still owns, during a recent edition of the "Sunday Morning" show

In my role as Deaccession Diva at this week's NY State museums conference (organized for relatively small-sized institutions), I played to a full house (or, more accurately, crowded room) of museum officials and state government representatives, including several who have previously played cameos or starring roles in CultureGrrl: Clifford Siegfried, David Palmquist, a representative from the office of Assemblyman Richard Brodsky, Michael Botwinick, and, let us not forget, Carmine Branagan.

I was not startled when Branagan (whose National Academy deaccessions featured prominently in my presentation) walked in the door, because a conference official had given me prior notice that she had expressed interest in attending my talk. I was a little surprised, though, that she ventured to address the room during the group discussion. Despite my specific invitation for dissent (at which point Branagan remained silent), this was a group that seemed uniformly committed to the concept that museum collections are held in trust for the public---a trust that was sorely compromised by the Academy's actions.

What Branagan did choose to pick up on was my observation at the end of my talk that "the current financial crisis has begun to stimulate a coming together of cultural institutions to help each other in problem-solving." I noted optimistically that by working together collegially to solve common problems, museums can "transform the current financial crisis into an opportunity to improve your governance, your appeal to visitors and donors, and your ties with sister institutions that share your goals and your concerns."

Branagan (who seems to be trying to craft a new role for herself as spokesperson for getting the big guys to become more sensitive to the problems of the little guys) seconded my kumbaya conclusion by observing that "what AAMD and the National Academy are doing is finding ways to work together and be more proactive so things are already in discussion before they reach a crisis."

Isn't that what Branagan should have tried to do BEFORE her museum secretly liquidated its paintings to pay its bills?

After my illustrated retelling (via PowerPoint) of New York State deaccession lore, from Hoving to Brodsky, the group became engrossed in a serious, far-ranging discussion of the provisions and ramifications of Assemblyman Brodsky's current, ground-breaking attempt to legislate deaccession policy.

More on that...COMING SOON.