The movies have come to the art exhibit, and in what (I think) is a very unusual way: An exhibition at the Palazzo Strozzi in Florence called Picasso, Miró, Dalí. Angry Young Men: the Birth of Modernity is structured like a film, in a series of flashbacks.

It’s a little hard to explain, so I shall stick closely to the press release, aided by my perusal of the catalogue and a look at what has been posted online about the exhibition.  

For the show, co-curators Christof Vitali, former director of the Beyeler Foundation, among other things, and Eugenio Carmona, professor at the University of Malaga, have gathered more than sixty early works by the three young artists, plus more than a hundred sketches by Picasso. The unifying factor is their background: all three were raised in Catalonia, but became famous in France. Picasso and Miro moved there to build their careers; Dalí stayed largely in Spain. 

The exhibit covers the years from 1901 through the late 1920s, but begins in 1926 with Dali, the youngest of the three, when he says he went to meet Picasso. (His Cadaques — 1917, pre-Picasso, is above.) Visitors learn how he responded to Picasso and, before that, to Miró. Then visitors move to 1917, when Miró encounters Picasso (His Portrait of Josef F. Rafols from 1917 is below); and then to 1901, when the young arrives in Paris at the start of the new century. The last painting is his Altar Boy, painted in 1896, when Picasso was 15.

The point is this:

The exhibition takes the visitor through a series of spaces organized as ‘considerations’ that investigate the common roots of the styles that later made Picasso, Miró and Dalí household names.

Their first sight, however, is none of the above. Like movies that begin with an inexplicable picture that is explained, or referenced, only later, Angry Young Men: the Birth of Modernity starts with a swirl of images above visitors’ head — they are taken from a sketchbook of Picasso’s, and:

The dream-like images and the striking encounter between classical and African art foreshadow the exhibition’s mysterious heart — Picasso’s groundbreaking Cahier 7. The product of just two months of intense creativity in 1907, the album’s pages show Picasso clearly straddling two centuries and two traditions, with one foot in the 19th century, and the other in the 20th. Here we can see Picasso struggling to give birth to a new visual language — the language of modernity — in the very first sketches of his revolutionary work Les Demoisselles d’Avignon.

The 1907 Cahier 7 has never been shown in its entirety outside Spain, and its importance in the story turns up in selected labels before visitors reach the real thing.

The “epilogue” brings together works from all three artists that “show the persistence of the influence of Cahier 7: Picasso’s La Femme Qui Pleure, Miro’s Composition (Petit Univers) and Dali’s Arlequin.

The exhibit then ends in an interactive room and — this I like — here

…a special emphasis is placed on the practice of drawing, in a space where the visitors can try their own hand a drawing and sketching, using reproductions of works by the young artists as possible models, just as they themselves had done. Just as Picasso had spent his days copying masterpieces in the galleries of the Louvre in the early 1900s, visitors to the exhibition-perhaps themselves this century’s next ’emerging talents’-can discover the importance of the past in creating the future.

Sounds to me like an intriguing — if possibly confusing — approach: a bold new world. But as movies are so prevalent in our culture, maybe exhibits can  work well as a backward narrative. Flashback novels are common, and even a few plays move forward in reverse.

The exhibit runs until July 17. Comments especially welcome from anyone who visits Florence and sees it.

Photo Credits: Kunstmuseum Bern (top), Mildred Lane Kemper Museum/Washington University (bottom) via Palazzo Strozzi 

Speaking of participation — and this being Holy (or Passion) Week — it’s a good time to highlight the 400th anniversary of the completion of the King James Bible, which — no matter your religious bent — can be appreciated for its felicitous use of language.

For months, the King James Bible Trust, which was established to celebrate the anniversary, has been commissioning music and literary compositions (composers who were short-listed are here), sponsoring lectures and debates, holding study days in the UK, and various other activities more about which you can read on its website.

You’ll see that Neil MacGregor of the British Museum introduces the video there called “The Book That Changed the World.” It goes on to have people citing a few verses that have given the world common usages, cliches even, read in a beautiful but somehow chilling way. For more examples, click on “King James Bible Phrases.” Those cited include “a land flowing with milk and honey,” “the salt of the earth,” “the powers that be,” “feet of clay,” and “a time and a place for everything,” among so many more.

The website also includes a digitized version of the KJB, as published in 1611, a clever look at life in 1611, and much more.

And in a sign of the times — participation — the KJBT has also started a project called the YouTube Bible: it’s a complete reading of the Bible in English, by actors, musicians, politicians, and people everywhere — even royals (Prince Charles, at least).

The Trust is seeking readers. You maybe?

This link explains how to participate — basically, you look at what has already been recorded, choose a section from the KJB (published online by the University of Michigan) that hasn’t been done, record it, upload it to YouTube, and email the link to the Trust, which will choose whose versions become part of the official YouTube Bible.

If you have a videocam, it’s simple. And worthwhile.

 

The Hirshhorn Museum sent me an email a while back that boggles the mind. It was an invitation to buy tickets to the Apr. 29 “After Hours” event, running from 8 p.m. to midnight. The picture looks, to me, more like a rave than anything to do with art, but that’s not the topic I’m taking up here. It’s not even the high ticket price of $18.

What’s most bothersome about this invitation is the statement about members: “Members get in free and have access to VIP area.”

You can see that line for yourself in the picture at left.

“A VIP area”? At a public museum, an arm of the Smithsonian Institution?

For years, museum officials have been droning on about the need to dispel the notion that art museums are elitist. To me, it’s more of a museum image problem than anything real: some people think that they have to dress up, have a college diploma, or have other so-called elite attributes to feel welcome. Mostly, that’s pure fantasy — or an excuse.

And now, the Hirshhorn — no doubt in an effort to raise money (the lowest level of membership costs $100 to $249 a year ) — is creating a VIP lounge within an already questionable activity? After Hours seems to involve gallery tours as well as “music and live performances on the plaza.” Guess which is the draw?

As a subsequent press release said:

From his infamous dance parties (RAW, MIXTAPE) to his guest spots at numerous DC nightlife events, audience favorite DJ Shea Van Horn sheds his drag alter ego, Summer Camp, and returns to After Hours to stir up the dance floor and leave a trail of exhausted revelers in his wake.

Oh, btw, galleries close at 10 p.m. (maybe for protection from the revelers?).

I check the Hirshhorn’s mission statement, which says, in part:

We seek to share the transformative power of modern and contemporary art with audiences at all levels of awareness and understanding by creating meaningful, personal experiences in which art, artists, audiences and ideas converge. We enhance public understanding and appreciation of contemporary art through acquisition, exhibitions, education and public programs, conservation, and research. 

I guess After Hours is a public program. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, if museum officials don’t believe that art is enough, no one else will either. (See “Museums Gone Wild.”)

But this post is more about that VIP lounge. It’s almost enough to call the SI’s Regents to task yet again — or to restructure the Smithsonian in a way that produces a better operational culture. Members’ events are one thing; a two-class system at one event is inexcusable. The Smithsonian, the Hirshhorn, are not some New York City night club with chosen ones behind a velvet rope.

Photo Credit: Courtesy of the Hirshhorn Museum

 

Breaking now, with few details: Zahi Hawass, reappointed as Minister of State for Antiquities Affairs by the new Egyptian government, has been sentenced by an Egyptian criminal court to a year in jail, according to Al-Ahram — and he was fired.

The newspaper’s English website says he was punished for refusing to follow a court order over a land dispute.

The Egyptian criminal court also said Hawass must be relieved of his governmental duties and ordered him to pay a LE1000 penalty.

Hawass failed to adhere to a ruling in favour of his opponent over a land dispute when he was in charge of the Supreme Council of Antiquities (SCA).

The SCA appealed the court ruling, arguing that the land includes monuments and therefore should be treated as government-owned land.

On his blog, Hawass denies that he is going to jail. He explains that it’s all a misunderstanding, related to the bookstore contract, which I mentioned here, and ends with:

Tomorrow, the head of the Legal Affairs Department at the Ministry of Antiquities will go to the court to file our appeal. He will present evidence that the bid for the bookstore contract was finished before the original court ruling, so therefore we could not follow the ruling to stop the bidding. We already had completed the bidding! I have every confidence that this matter will be cleared up very soon, so I want to tell everyone not to worry. I respect the laws of my country very highly, and the rulings of our courts. I intend to handle this matter entirely within our legal system. Nothing will cause me to lose focus from my goal of protecting the sites of Egypt.

  

I tend to be suspicious of some efforts being tried by museums to make themselves more “participatory” — today’s buzzword for increasing attendance, especially by younger audiences. My doubt stem from the fact that many of the initiatives seem to me to be outside the core mission. They may attract people, but not to art.

But here’s one I can get behind: On May 8, the Frick Collection* has scheduled a “Sunday Sketch” session. Between 1 p.m. and 3 p.m., people are invited to sketch in the Frick’s Garden Court and to visit the museum’s special Rembrandt exhibition.

Sunday Sketch is open to everyone over 10 years old, and no reservations are necessary. It’s scheduled once or twice a month, pegged to changing exhibitions.

Before receiving an email with a Sunday Sketch listing, I knew that many museums allow sketching in their galleries, but I wasn’t aware of that some regularly invite people in for it, as part of their educational mission. And in another plus at the Frick, the email said “Materials will be provided” free, with museum admission.   

So I checked out a few other museums to see how common this kind of participation with art is. I searched for “sketch” on various websites, perused their “events” listings and sometimes looked under “education” on the site. It’s not a foolproof methodology, but here’s what I discovered:

Museums that have sketch sessions similar to those of Frick’s (some include the provision of materials; others, not) include the Metropolitan Museum,* the Museum of Fine Arts/Boston (unclear how frequently); the Museum of Fine Arts/Houston; the Minneapolis Institute of Arts (classes); and the Peabody Essex Museum.

And among those that don’t (or none signaled on their website) are the Los Angeles County Museum of Art; the St. Louis Art Museum (the “make a mess” family program does not count); Denver Art Museum (sketching allowed, but no listing for group sessions or materials or guidance); the Seattle Art Museum; the Nelson-Atkins Museum (just kids’ workshops); the Cleveland Museum of Art (has a class series, with fee); the New Orleans Museum of Art; the Art Institute of Chicago; the High, and the Brooklyn Museum* (paid classes only).

These were random choices by me, but I tried to survey all parts of the country.

So the question is, why not? If museum experts are pushing museums to have more interaction with users and to provide more opportunities for social interaction, why not extend more invitations to sketch in the galleries? It’s one good way to learn about art.

Photo Credit: Courtesy of the Frick Collection

*Disclosure: I consult to a foundation that supports these museums.