22.6.06
Museum politics...
Here is a rundown of the protest resignation of Berkeley Art Museum curator Chris Gilbert after museum officials complained about the exhibit text, which stressed solidarity with Chavez's Bolivarian revolution in Venezuela:
http://www.nyfa.org/level3.asp?id=484&fid=6&sid=17
Here is the curator's statement about his resignation (on Temporary Services — interesting blog):
http://tempserv.livejournal.com/34274.html
Here is the curator's exhibit description:
http://www.bampfa.berkeley.edu/exhibits/nowtime/content.html
And here is a critique by artist Martha Rosler, who asserts that the curator's political stridency becomes an impediment to viewer interaction:
http://www.nettime.org/Lists-Archives/nettime-l-0606/msg00075.html
* * * * * * *
This event should provoke a re-visiting of the nature of museum exhibits, the truths they attempt to convey and the different kinds of interests to which museums are beholden. While some radical spaces are attempting to address these issues, most museums remain staid institutions, with very particular ties to either community or monied interests. "Neutrality" then has long been a keyword for not rocking too many boats.
One point of contention concerns whether exhibits should (or do) function as forms of propaganda. Gilbert's exhibit "Now-Time Venezuela: Part One" hardly represents a novel effort to take a strong political stance: during World War II, the Museum of Modern Art staged a number of exhibits in support of the war effort that were outright propaganda (but took a novel approach to graphics/design). An exhibition of Macedonian iconography at the Metropolitan Museum of Art inadvertently took sides in a nasty nationalist debate on Macedonia's borders. In the latter case, what was left unsaid had tremendous political implications.
In this regard, to evacuate political content from an exhibit is to also take a political stance. In the recent past, much criticism has been leveled against museums for displaying objects, including works of art, within a vacuum. Should we appreciate Millet's idealistic paintings of rural farm life without appreciating the deepening impoverishment caused by ruthless 19th century agrarian reforms? Should an African art museum show off its collection of "treasures" without reference to the socio-cultural meanings and purposes attributed to the works?
On the other hand, does a psuedo-scientific one-liner truly help visitors understand the function of a yam house in Papua New Guinea? Sometimes the effort to contextualize display objects can be as reductive and
Neutrality -- long considered a virtue in exhibit development -- can also be quite problematic within the context of an exhibit that touches upon difficult (read sensitive) subjects. As a curator, one is constantly in contact with community members who are very concerned about the ways in which they are "represented" before a public audience. By paying heed to community concerns (as all museums must), one fails to be neutral. Thus in an exhibit on currency, we were obliged to underscore the sacred -- as opposed to monetary -- value of wampum.
Neutrality has too often been equated with a fear of saying anything disagreeable or offensive .. which can hardly represent an ethical step. For example, a critique of the relatively new Lincoln Museum in Illinois noted that the history of Lincoln's grappling with whether to address the issue of slavery was omitted entirely. Visitors are instead left with a two-dimensional and untruthful portrait -- as well as a false understanding of the times. Would our portrait of Lincoln be diminished to know that he contradicted himself? Are children better taught to learn instead that ethical decisions are always easy and that heroes never take missteps?
Too the stance of neutrality is sometimes problematic in and of itself. While I am inclined to side with those that believe that audiences should be made aware of conflicting points of view, neutrality too can serve to obscure important institutional biases — arising for example out of the vested economic and political interests of its board and administration. And neutrality is sometimes not warranted (one thinks of Switzerland's neutrality during World War II or the insistence on neutrality that has led many of this country's major news stations and newspaper chains to produce nothing but pablum. A recent university exhibit I attended for example omitted critical information for fear of alienating the collectors who had made the artwork available to the curators.
This points to another odd thing about curating and that is that one often must also seek loans or privileged research from those who are looking to advance their own points of view or protect themselves (and their holdings) from public scrutiny. In other words, the curator is sometimes obliged to bite the hand that feeds or, in so failing, promulgates an untruth about the content on display.
Neutrality can also refer to the ways in which globalization is sometimes a catchword for an odd form of cultural appropriation. While the first world may assert copyright over ideas long entrenched elsewhere, another strange form of cultural borrowing is afoot .. that in which specific forms of cultural discourse are neutered and turned into background music or pan-something cooking or quaint expressions on non-revolutionary tee shirts.
...
http://www.nyfa.org/level3.asp?id=484&fid=6&sid=17
Here is the curator's statement about his resignation (on Temporary Services — interesting blog):
http://tempserv.livejournal.com/34274.html
Here is the curator's exhibit description:
http://www.bampfa.berkeley.edu/exhibits/nowtime/content.html
And here is a critique by artist Martha Rosler, who asserts that the curator's political stridency becomes an impediment to viewer interaction:
http://www.nettime.org/Lists-Archives/nettime-l-0606/msg00075.html
* * * * * * *
This event should provoke a re-visiting of the nature of museum exhibits, the truths they attempt to convey and the different kinds of interests to which museums are beholden. While some radical spaces are attempting to address these issues, most museums remain staid institutions, with very particular ties to either community or monied interests. "Neutrality" then has long been a keyword for not rocking too many boats.
One point of contention concerns whether exhibits should (or do) function as forms of propaganda. Gilbert's exhibit "Now-Time Venezuela: Part One" hardly represents a novel effort to take a strong political stance: during World War II, the Museum of Modern Art staged a number of exhibits in support of the war effort that were outright propaganda (but took a novel approach to graphics/design). An exhibition of Macedonian iconography at the Metropolitan Museum of Art inadvertently took sides in a nasty nationalist debate on Macedonia's borders. In the latter case, what was left unsaid had tremendous political implications.
In this regard, to evacuate political content from an exhibit is to also take a political stance. In the recent past, much criticism has been leveled against museums for displaying objects, including works of art, within a vacuum. Should we appreciate Millet's idealistic paintings of rural farm life without appreciating the deepening impoverishment caused by ruthless 19th century agrarian reforms? Should an African art museum show off its collection of "treasures" without reference to the socio-cultural meanings and purposes attributed to the works?
On the other hand, does a psuedo-scientific one-liner truly help visitors understand the function of a yam house in Papua New Guinea? Sometimes the effort to contextualize display objects can be as reductive and
Neutrality -- long considered a virtue in exhibit development -- can also be quite problematic within the context of an exhibit that touches upon difficult (read sensitive) subjects. As a curator, one is constantly in contact with community members who are very concerned about the ways in which they are "represented" before a public audience. By paying heed to community concerns (as all museums must), one fails to be neutral. Thus in an exhibit on currency, we were obliged to underscore the sacred -- as opposed to monetary -- value of wampum.
Neutrality has too often been equated with a fear of saying anything disagreeable or offensive .. which can hardly represent an ethical step. For example, a critique of the relatively new Lincoln Museum in Illinois noted that the history of Lincoln's grappling with whether to address the issue of slavery was omitted entirely. Visitors are instead left with a two-dimensional and untruthful portrait -- as well as a false understanding of the times. Would our portrait of Lincoln be diminished to know that he contradicted himself? Are children better taught to learn instead that ethical decisions are always easy and that heroes never take missteps?
Too the stance of neutrality is sometimes problematic in and of itself. While I am inclined to side with those that believe that audiences should be made aware of conflicting points of view, neutrality too can serve to obscure important institutional biases — arising for example out of the vested economic and political interests of its board and administration. And neutrality is sometimes not warranted (one thinks of Switzerland's neutrality during World War II or the insistence on neutrality that has led many of this country's major news stations and newspaper chains to produce nothing but pablum. A recent university exhibit I attended for example omitted critical information for fear of alienating the collectors who had made the artwork available to the curators.
This points to another odd thing about curating and that is that one often must also seek loans or privileged research from those who are looking to advance their own points of view or protect themselves (and their holdings) from public scrutiny. In other words, the curator is sometimes obliged to bite the hand that feeds or, in so failing, promulgates an untruth about the content on display.
Neutrality can also refer to the ways in which globalization is sometimes a catchword for an odd form of cultural appropriation. While the first world may assert copyright over ideas long entrenched elsewhere, another strange form of cultural borrowing is afoot .. that in which specific forms of cultural discourse are neutered and turned into background music or pan-something cooking or quaint expressions on non-revolutionary tee shirts.
...
