Showing posts with label Curatorial Process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Curatorial Process. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Art as Therapy at the Art Gallery of Ontario

"I am half sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott" (Alfred, Lord Tennyson, The Lady of Shalott, Part II), 1915 by John William Waterhouse (1849-1917) , Painting (oil on canvas 100.3 x 73.7 cm), , AGO Gift of Mrs. Philip B. Jackson, 1971. 
It was a quiet opening. There was no press preview and no gala. And yet, the opening of the exhibit Art as Therapy by philosopher Alain de Botton and art theorist John Armstrong heralded in a new way of interpreting art and engaging audiences in museums.

I have to admit my bias since I am a big fan of contemporary philosopher Alain de Botton's work, especially The Architecture of Happiness, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work, The Art of Travel, and How Proust can Change your LifeAlain de Botton's writing is clear and to the point. He is also refreshing in his candour and willingness to take a fresh look at the world.

The premise of the book Art as Therapy is that the conventional presentation of art in chronological format is too simplistic and didactic. In almost all cases, paintings and other forms of artwork are presented with a label that reveals the artist's name, date of production and provenance. This information does not help us interpret or engage with the artwork. Art as therapy suggests that a thematic presentation of the artwork - in terms of how it makes us feel - would offer a deeper layer of interpretation and engagement for the audience. Showcasing art in terms of its intent - whether political or religious or emotional - would bring the audience closer to the artist's intent for the work.

The Marches Casati by Augustus Edwin John (1878-1961), Painting (oil on canvas 96.5 x 68.6 cm) , AGO Purchase 1934,.
At the Art Gallery of Ontario, this premise has been used with selected works from the AGO collection chosen by John Armstrong and Alain de Botton defined by the themes of politics, sex, nature, love and money. The works include ones by Van Gogh, Gerard Richter, Andy Warhol, Kandinsky, John Waterhouse and many others. Installed in five different galleries linked by yellow arrows on the floor, visitors can "embark on a journey of discovery that will find them exploring different art, and a different part of themselves, in each space, or station". According to John Armstrong and Alain de Botton, art has a "powerfully therapeutic effect. It can variously help to inspire, console, redeem, guide, comfort, expand and reawaken us.”

In walking through the installation, I was profoundly moved by the authors' interpretation of the artworks. In some cases, I was surprised to rediscover new interpretations of old favourites. I felt moved and challenged by the information offered on the labels. Sometimes I felt comforted and a little less alone. The work I saw felt more powerful than I had previously given it credit.

Last night, Alain de Botton and John Armstrong also gave a talk about the premise of the exhibit and their experience in curating the work at the AGO. Alain de Botton was funny and self-deprecating in a way that made me wish he wouldn't stop talking. John Armstrong offered a quieter, more reflective analysis that gave depth to their unconventional approach to art curatorial practice.

Les Sabots, 1768 by Francois Boucher (1703-1770), Painting (oil on canvas 62.2 x 52.1 cm)
AGO Purchase, Frank P. Wood Endowment, 1978. 
There was a question period afterwards and at least two of the questions seemed to have been framed in a hostile manner, but this did not fluster the presenters, who showed grace and good form in their responses. I honestly felt surprisingly star struck and was unable to ask my questions:

1. Is it not possible that each person sees something different in an artwork?

2. If galleries are grouped thematically, might it not prevent some people from engaging with that artwork if they thought they didn't need or care about love, sex or nature?

3. Sometimes artists create works and don't know why they have made that particular piece. They might write an artist statement afterwards - adding theory or artspeak - to give the illusion of depth when in fact, it was something deep, powerful and unspoken inside that precipitated the creation. Does it matter what their intent is in the end?

4. If it is true that we crave in art what we are lacking (in the world around us), why are "beautiful" paintings like that of Fantin Latour not more popular? The contemporary art world seems to look down on the creation of "pretty pictures" as lacking in depth and meaning, when, in fact, creating those pretty pictures might be salve for the soul.

Despite the fact that this low key show requires some effort and self-reflection, this is a show worthy of a special trip to the AGO. It is an opportunity to consider what role plays in our lives and offers a much needed and refreshing re-examination of art curatorial practice. The show will also be presented in the Netherlands and also in Australia. Of course, there is also the book.

Art Gallery of Ontario 
Art as Therapy, May 3, 2014 - April 26, 2015.

All images courtesy of the Art Gallery of Ontario

Notes:
Read my reviews of The Architecture of Happiness and How Proust can Change Your Life by clicking on the titles.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Memories of a Dress: Weekly Reflective Journal


In practice-led research, self-reflection is an integral part of the research process. The act of stepping back from creative practice to document and self-critique the development of the work is an essential part of the protocol.

"The creative individual must reject the wisdom of the field, yet she must also incorporate its standards into a self-criticism. And for this one must learn to achieve the dialectical tension between involvement and detachment that is so characteristic of every creative process" (Csikszentmihaly qtd. in Aziz 70).

Separating one's self from one's work is never easy, especially when the act of documentation takes place in the public sphere such as I am doing on this blog. To be self-critical in a public forum makes the degree of risk seem exponential. It is in this place that my identities as blogger, researcher and curator merge. Even though Maria Luisa Frisa said "the notion of risk as implicit to the working method of the curator (171)", most academics seem to see risk as abhorrent. Risk scares me but it also excites me, because it offers up a chance to explore and grow.


Friday, September 14, 2012

Creative Process Journal: Weekly Reflection

This past week, I've been documenting some of my reading on curatorial process, teasing out the fragments of how curators come up with exhibition ideas. It might not seem like creative work, but it is part of my practice-led research project called Memories of a Dress. Using the Ryerson Fashion Research Collection, I am exploring the idea that a garment has a object biography and a memory of its former owner.

Practice-led research focuses on the "the nature of practice and leads to new knowledge that has operational significance for that practice." From what I can tell, there seems to be a gap in knowledge about the process of how fashion curation takes place. The articles in scholarly journals only offer hints at how curators come up with their ideas and unless I've missed something altogether, this process seems to be largely private. In undertaking this work here, I am making my process transparent  and thereby adding to the advancement of knowledge about curatorial practice.


Sunday, September 9, 2012

Creative Process Journal: Curation and Maria Luisa Frisa

The Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language 1994 edition gives the following definition for curator:

1. the person in charge of a museum, art collection, etc.
2. a manager; overseer; superintendent.
3. a guardian of a minor, lunatic, or other incompetent, especially with regard to his property (354)."

When I first read this definition, my eyes focussed on the "lunatic",  and skipped over the words "guardian of...". I laughed, because there are times when I feel like I must be a lunatic or at least crazy to have taken on the massive project/job of editing the Ryerson Fashion Resource Collection, while also completing my graduate studies.

I am the "person in charge" of the collection, but this does not convey the essence of what curation means from a contemporary perspective. Nor does it convey the specific challenges of curating fashion.

To explore what it means to curate a fashion exhibition, I turned to a Fashion Theory article written in 2008 by curator Maria Luisa Frisa (who I met briefly in Milan at Fashion Tales 2012). In The Curator's Risk, Maria Luisa Frisa explores the idea that "fashion curating is the exercise of a critical gaze, which recognizes the multiple traces, symptoms and fragments that are around us" and identifies risks "as implicit to the working method of the curator" (171). The article is written in a reflective tone, and Frisa considers curation in general to be about "design, layout, imagining, and constructing" (172). She suggests that fashion curation allows one to "offer new points of observation" while cautioning that  it is necessary to understand "your own insights and being willing enough to take a gamble on them" (172).

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Creative Process Journal: Memories of a Dress

Beginning the first page, post or sketch is the hardest part... and this post marks the beginning of my latest creative project: Memories of a Dress. If you have been a follower of this blog for a while, you might recall the series of photos about my mother's dresses called My Mother/Myself. 



In this series, I photographed dresses that belonged to my mother in the barren winter settings of a local ravine. The intent was to convey my sense of desolation and despair over my mother's decline in health and mobility from Parkinson's disease. I still have these dresses and am unable to part with them, even though they lack provenance or value, because they embody her memory.

Many women have dresses or other garments that hang at the back of their closets, long out of fashion, but imbued with memories of a person, an event or time in their life that they wish to remember (Banim and Guy 217). Disposing of that garment can be difficult, and museum curators and managers of study collections can be overwhelmed with requests to accept donations of wedding dresses, special occasion gowns and other items that have emotional significance to the wearer yet lack provenance or significance from a curatorial standpoint. In fact, I know this now firsthand since dealing with donation offers is part of my job as Collections Coordinator of the Fashion Research Collection at Ryerson University's School of Fashion.