Busting assumptions

Occasionally an article on a topic you feel pretty familiar with turns up something new. This recent Art Newspaper article on blockbuster exhibitions, for example, made me for the first time think about the curators who assemble 'blockbuster' shows:

In general the criticisms levelled at such events—the wear and tear on artefacts and on curators, who often argue that they are unable to concentrate on their permanent collections because of the demands of temporary displays—are robustly brushed aside by museum directors. Dynamic directors believe that objects are more at risk on permanent display or in storage than they are on their travels, and that the good curator loves to combine care for their collection with exhibition organisation; as Saumarez Smith puts it: “I think there is an element of myth about exhibitions acting as a distraction from the task of interpreting collections. In my experience, able and energetic curators want to do both.”

I guess I almost thought blockbuster shows sprung, fully formed, from the originating institutions without much thought or work. Then I realised suddenly that I made this assumption based on the small number of blockbusters that make it to New Zealand's shores. Blockbusters come out here what, maybe once a year? I wonder what percentage of the international annual blockbuster production that constitutes.

It was also interesting to read that fashions in blockbusters are changing: more contemporary artists, more photography (of course, you could argue that you can market the hell out of almost anything and turn it into a blockbuster through sheer force of will).

At the end of this, you realise that 'blockbuster' is an unfortunate term (and not only in the sense that it originates in massively destructive aerial bombardment). Blockbusters seem to attract coverage, not criticism: the ubiquity of some of the works, the torrents of visitors, the merchandise seem to freeze critical faculties (if not carping). There is a tendency to assume that something can't be big, popular, and sophisticated. The Art Newspaper piece isn't a revelation or a revolution, but it made me think.

Web muster

Stuart Jeffries gets his bile on in the Guardian over boring blockbuster programming:

Conservative? The Royal Academy's newly open Sargent and the Sea, and the National Gallery of Scotland's forthcoming Impressionist Gardens are set to be both tourist-friendly lollipops and visual Prozac for a staycationing nation of depressed and professionally insecure self-deluders. Not that I won't be going to see Sargent's swelling seas; it's just that I'll hate myself when I do.

Also in the Guardian, an interview with Victoria Miro.

Audience research firm Slover Linett Strategies on the potential hazards of 'gateway' programming.

Jerry Saltz on the Whitney's expansion plans:

If I were on the Whitney’s planning committee I’d trust the curators to curate, even if many of their shows would be infuriating. I’d harp on one thing: building enough interior space to permanently display the permanent collection. The Whitney must learn from the Museum of Modern Art’s mistakes. Even after spending over $750 million dollars on their expansion, MoMA neglected to reserve enough room for the greatest collection of modern art in the world. The result borders on tragic.

And from Newsweek, the Creativity Crisis:

Like intelligence tests, Torrance’s test—a 90-minute series of discrete tasks, administered by a psychologist [to measure the ability to generate useful and original ideas]—has been taken by millions worldwide in 50 languages. Yet there is one crucial difference between IQ and CQ scores. With intelligence, there is a phenomenon called the Flynn effect—each generation, scores go up about 10 points. Enriched environments are making kids smarter. With creativity, a reverse trend has just been identified and is being reported for the first time here: American creativity scores are falling.

I couldn't resist pasting a few New Zealand artworks into Pixel Width Portraits, although I always wonder if any self-respecting designer would actually use this as a way to come up with a palette.



Finally, New Zealand company My Tours have worked with the creator of the Invisible Paris blog to create mobile tours of Parisian street art and architecture the way natives, not tourists, see them - they look great.

Die, blockbuster, die

Nicholas Penny, new director of the National Gallery, London, has told the press that it's time for the institution to re-assume its role of showing audiences work that they are unfamiliar with, rather than staging rote shows based on well-known names. From the Times:

“The responsibility of a major gallery is to show people something they haven’t seen before,” [Penny] said. “A major national institution should be one that proves a constant attraction to the public. What is important is encouraging historical and visual curiosity in the general public.”

Jonathan Jones has written a long and interesting response in the Guardian. He notes that it's not the 'blockbuster' that's at fault:

A blockbuster suggests to me a mighty, epic - and yes, crowd-pleasing, why not? - romp through a great artist or period or theme. Britain's galleries don't do exhibitions like that - they do squibs that sound good on paper, and in the paper, whether it's a Caravaggio show with no Bacchus or Medusa, or a Duchamp exhibit that prefers to dwell on his snapshots than explore the mysteries of the Large Glass. By the time anyone notices the exhibition is actually a bit shallow, it's too late to ask for your money back.

By the by - the term 'blockbuster' dates from WWII and colloquially referred to bombs big enough to wipe out an entire city block. On that sobering note - thanks for reading, enjoy your weekend, get out to Waikanae if you can!