Real Clear Arts

Judith H. Dobrzynski on Culture

Artists

Rembrandt, Whistler And Others Take A Swing At Depicting Golf

Any golfers out there? If so, you may be intrigued by an exhibition that opened at the High Museum in Atlanta early this month. Called “The Art of Golf,” it’s a product of the High’s long-term partnership with the National Galleries of Scotland, and it’s a natural.

It’s also timely, as it’s almost spring, and of course the Masters Tournament will be getting underway in early April in Augusta, Ga. — about 150 miles away.

The exhibit brings together about 90 works— some serious, some whimsical and some rare — to illustrate 400 years of golf history. A surprising number of artists have taken on the subject — including Andy Warhol, whose 1977 portrait of Jack Nicklaus is pictured, right – and I have a short article in tomorrow’s Wall Street Journal with more detail about the show.

Although there is absolutely no mention of this in the exhibition public billing or press release, I see this as a canny way to attract men to the High on the theory that once they’re in, they may look around and see more that they like. And then they will return. (I’ve written about the male gap in arts participation here.)

Rand Jerris, an official of the United States Golf Association, told me that there is even more material out there on the subject. The USGA has its own museum, which it says includes works of art as well as many artifacts and photographs. Jerris told me that there’ve been other efforts to do this kind of show in the past, but that most museum turned up their noses at the idea.  

The High show, with art coming from the Scottish galleries, may have a higher proportion of “fine” art, though. Even so, the first word I got about this show, last fall, came with the thought that it would make a national tour. So far, only the Museum of Fine Arts in St. Petersburg, FL, has signed on.

Photo Credit: Courtesy of the High Museum

Van Gogh, The Kitschiest Klimt Products And Art

The final picture in van Gogh Up Close, now on view at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, is his “Almond Blossoms,” an ever-beautiful and poignant picture to me, as he painted it in honor of his namesake nephew. I was horrified in December when an email landed in my box from a commercial art reproduction business saying it was its No. 3 best-seller last year, behind van Gogh’s “Starry Night” and his “Cafe Terrace at Night.”

It’s not that I don’t believe in posters (as long as they are faithful representations). It’s that “Almond Blossoms” was available not only with the blue-sky background of the original, but also with red or yellow backgrounds. I’m not kidding. But there’s nothing one can do about it.

Then yesterday I learned of an effort to mock the kitsch related to Gustav Klimt — sort of. According to an AFP story, repeated in Auction Central News, the  Wien Museum has started a “Worst of Klimt” campaign, inviting people to post on its Facebook page “the most horrible or most absurd Klimt products.”

This is even more bizarre, because it seems to reward people for posting outlandish objects as well as those who make them, which only encourages them. Says the article:

The museum said that the best—or worst—objects might feature in its Klimt exhibition that opens on May 16, one of a flurry of shows planned this year in the Austrian capital to honor the painter.

The posters of the 10 objects causing “the most controversy, discussion or approval under the Facebook community between now and March 15, will be rewarded with a joint exclusive guided tour through the exhibition,” it added.

It’s all part of the 150th birthday celebration of Klimt’s birth.  I suppose we should view this as light-hearted fun. Funny, I don’t mind the Klimt stuff. I do hate to see that red “Almond Blossoms.” But I guess we should be grateful that it takes van Gogh’s name to more people, even if they’re getting a wrong impression of his work.

 

Leonardo At The Movies: Lessons For The Future — And News

Most of you, I’m guessing, did not travel to London to see Leonardo da Vinci: Painter at the Court of Milan at the National Gallery (which I’ve written about here and here). Neither did I.

So I was very curious to see Leonardo Live, in HD, the movie version. It was simulcast live to movie theaters in the U.K.on the night of the exhibition’s opening, and now it is being shown here in the U.S. and in other countries, mainly last Thursday. But I went to a showing at NYU on Tuesday night, where my friend Robert Simon, the dealer who has been involved with the newly attributed Leonardo, Salvator Mundi, representing the owners, made a little news. More about which in a minute.

First the movie: it’s worth seeing, but it is flawed. On the pro side, it explains how the exhibition came to together, a bit about the conservation of the National Gallery’s Madonna of the Rocks, including how the chief framer purchased a new period frame in Italy and made up the missing pieces, and gives a pretty good tour of the galleries, along with background on each painting and on Leonardo himself. That was a scripted in advance.

On the negative side is almost all the unscripted material. The two anchors, especially during impromptu interviews, try to whip up excitement in a way that rings false. Their questions are often insipid, frequently trying to plumb whether Leonardo’s works are “relevant” today. (I will refrain from being sarcastic about that.) The producers’ choice of interviewees — with the exception of curator Luke Syson, art historian Evelyn Welch and and the aforementioned conservator (Larry Keith), chief framer and perhaps one or two others — is dreadful. How could there be many more? There are — one for each painting and the Burlington Cartoon. There’s an Anglican bishop, who calls the artist “da Vinci,” a composer or two, an actress… etc. They are mostly uninformative, at best.

Should you see it? Probably.  (Here’s a little preview.)

There’ve been hints that producers, eying the success of Metropolitan Opera simulcasts, want to do more of these for once-in-a-lifetime exhibits. But should future producers in this genre do it differently? Also yes. It seems the makers this time were afraid to have too many “experts,” lest they turn off ordinary people. But none of the experts in this movie — except Charles Nicholl, one of Leonardo’s biographers – spoke in high falutin’ language. Nicholl’s final statement, or rather the face he made at the end, was greeted with laughter on Tuesday night. People can see through his condescension.

Now to the news: Simon was interviewed in a Q&A after the viewing, and one member of the audience asked whether we New Yorkers will have a chance to see Salvator Mundi.  Simon didn’t promise, but he essentially said he’s talking with… he didn’t say.

But Luke Syson, the exhibition’s curator, has moved to the Metropolitan Museum* from London. My betting is that’s where it would go.

Photo credit: Leonardo Live

*I consult to a foundation that supports the Met

 

 

Qatar’s Murakami Exibition: Fair Billing Or Not?

While we’re on the subject of curatorial matters — yesterday I mentioned how much I’d learned by the focused curating of van Gogh’s paintings to show his take/perspective on nature — I decided to take up a very different example that has been on my mind. In honesty, I don’t know how I feel about this.

Since Feb. 9, Murakami – Ego has been on view at the Al Riwaq exhibition space, located next to the Museum of Islamic Art on Doha’s Corniche, a project of the Qatar Museums Authority. It’s billed as “ his first exhibition in the Middle East and one of his largest to date” and promises that “Japanese artist Takashi Murakami will immerse visitors in a fantasy world that captures his distinct perspective on contemporary culture.”

Curated by Massimiliano Gioni, the press release says the show will have more than 70 works, from 1997 through the present, in a 24,756 sq. ft space:

The exhibition, which functions as a giant self-portrait and offers a look inside the artist’s mind, features new monumental works of art, a variety of multi-media objects and environments, new modes of display, and important series presented in their entirety for the first time.

The full press release, which describes the exhibition in detail, is here.

Now Murakami also makes some risque, some might say profane, works, such as his nudes and his “My Lonesome Cowboy.” I asked whether any were in this show. The response from the press representative was “no, the exhibition does not contain his nudes. Takashi Murakami and curator Massimiliano Gioni obviously have shown respect for the local culture and tradition of Qatar.”

I also asked who the show was aimed at, and got this response:

There are actually a number of educational initiatives planned. To celebrate the opening, there was a talk between Takashi Murakami and curator Massimiliano Gioni on Feb 9, at the Museum of Islamic Art auditorium.  The audience was a mix of university students, artists, people involved in the Qatar/regional art scene, and special guests from the international art world.

The Japanese Club from Qatar University, which is made up of young Qatari and Arab students, helped with the event.  In addition, the group is working with QMA as volunteers, serving as gallery guides for visitors and school groups touring the exhibition.

Other activities planned for local audiences include a series of family workshops from April-June called “Once Upon a Time,” which will explore Murakami’s work as inspiration for art projects. 

Hmmm. I guess that means locals and visitors alike. Here is what I think I think: It’s fine for the curators to choose works that will respect the local culture, and I respect them for that.

What I think may be wrong is billing the show as his “distinct perspective on contemporary culture.” That, to me, would include his most popular, or most valuable, works. If “My Lonesome Cowboy,” a large sculpture of an anime manga-boy masturbating that fetched some $15 million at auction, isn’t “a look inside his mind,” a lot of other people have been fooled about that. His nudes are clearly sexual. These works are, largely, what he is famous for. How can they be left out, without an explanation? Viewers are not getting the true picture — they are being misled.

 

Loving Van Gogh Up Close: See What You Like

I traveled down to Philadelphia this weekend to see Van Gogh Up Close at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and — first things first — I loved it. The exhibit gives us many unfamiliar pictures, borrowed from far-flung collections, public and private, in Europe. Better yet, it does really illustrate an aspect of van Gogh’s work that has gone little remarked. I looked at van Gogh’s work with different eyes.

When I came back I read the reviews again. While generally complimentary, at least two (here and here)  complain that the curators padded the show — adding Japanese prints, photographs and earlier art that inspired van Gogh. I found this surprising — in part, because all three sections were off the main galleries, two in alcoves and one at the end, almost in a hallway. They didn’t detract from the main event. I skipped the Japanese section almost completely, having familiarity with that influence on van Gogh, and breezed the other two quickly.

Yet I watched as many visitors — and there were many visitors — slowly looked at each piece. Yes, many were following the people in front of them as if they were in a parade. But judging by how intensely they looked, I guessed that these visitors were not so familiar with the Japanese or “other artists” influenced, and found the photographs interesting no matter the slight connection.

I’m all for sharper art criticism, but those above aren’t what I had in mind. Like movie critics writing for each other, sometimes art critics forget who they should be writing for, too.

They both remind me of a time, not so long ago, when I was working at The New York Times and the paper was fat with sections and fat with ads. People would complain to me that it was too much, they couldn’t read it all. I wasn’t the only one hearing those complaints. I have a black NYT coffee mug, which I took down from a top cupboard shelf and began using the other day. It says, “The New York Times — READ WHAT YOU LIKE.” 

Photo Credit: The Garden in Auvers