Fine Art Dread

An archive of art history nerdery with an interest in curatorship and museum studies.

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  1. Art Makes You Smart

  2. sexpigeon:

The museum on a Sunday is mostly dads and their dad-smitten daughters. Dad is a smart guy, he knows all the culture things and all the snickery city jokes. Daughter does well in school, dresses like a grad student, has a crush on Ira Glass. Gets into trouble, yeah, but it’s smart-kid trouble. An edgy essay, some black and white photography that maybe the art teacher isn’t quite ready for.
Mom likes art fine but doesn’t quite get-get art in the same way that Dad does. Dad has some artist friends-of-friends, Dad attended a gallery opening in the 1980s that Debbie Harry was at. Dad dabbled. Dad has books you are not allowed to touch because they’re fragile or important or expensive or pornographic in ways that might not be art in the way a teenage daughter understands art.
Dad isn’t in a hurry, Dad doesn’t follow you around the galleries like Mom does. Dad spends twenty minutes looking at one thing because that thing is very moving or fascinating or troubling to Dad. Dad sometimes peeks over your shoulder and tells you an interesting fact about the thing you are looking at. Mom is lost in a gallery and needs you to guide her. She nervously tells you things that the placards say and you’ve already read the placards and the placards are so pedestrian anyway, Mom.
Dad says you can pick one book from the bookstore. It has to be a book, not a piece of crap. It’s understood that you’re not supposed to pick the most expensive book, that’s obvious. Dad is going to judge you a little by your selection. Jasper Johns? Well, okay. If that’s what you’re interested in, okay. Dad flips through an art magazine and says that it used to be better. You note this, and you repeat it to a boy you like when your art class goes on a field trip. A momma’s boy, he is wrenched by the neg, and his hotness for you redoubles.
sexpigeon:

The museum on a Sunday is mostly dads and their dad-smitten daughters. Dad is a smart guy, he knows all the culture things and all the snickery city jokes. Daughter does well in school, dresses like a grad student, has a crush on Ira Glass. Gets into trouble, yeah, but it’s smart-kid trouble. An edgy essay, some black and white photography that maybe the art teacher isn’t quite ready for.
Mom likes art fine but doesn’t quite get-get art in the same way that Dad does. Dad has some artist friends-of-friends, Dad attended a gallery opening in the 1980s that Debbie Harry was at. Dad dabbled. Dad has books you are not allowed to touch because they’re fragile or important or expensive or pornographic in ways that might not be art in the way a teenage daughter understands art.
Dad isn’t in a hurry, Dad doesn’t follow you around the galleries like Mom does. Dad spends twenty minutes looking at one thing because that thing is very moving or fascinating or troubling to Dad. Dad sometimes peeks over your shoulder and tells you an interesting fact about the thing you are looking at. Mom is lost in a gallery and needs you to guide her. She nervously tells you things that the placards say and you’ve already read the placards and the placards are so pedestrian anyway, Mom.
Dad says you can pick one book from the bookstore. It has to be a book, not a piece of crap. It’s understood that you’re not supposed to pick the most expensive book, that’s obvious. Dad is going to judge you a little by your selection. Jasper Johns? Well, okay. If that’s what you’re interested in, okay. Dad flips through an art magazine and says that it used to be better. You note this, and you repeat it to a boy you like when your art class goes on a field trip. A momma’s boy, he is wrenched by the neg, and his hotness for you redoubles.
    High Resolution

    sexpigeon:

    The museum on a Sunday is mostly dads and their dad-smitten daughters. Dad is a smart guy, he knows all the culture things and all the snickery city jokes. Daughter does well in school, dresses like a grad student, has a crush on Ira Glass. Gets into trouble, yeah, but it’s smart-kid trouble. An edgy essay, some black and white photography that maybe the art teacher isn’t quite ready for.

    Mom likes art fine but doesn’t quite get-get art in the same way that Dad does. Dad has some artist friends-of-friends, Dad attended a gallery opening in the 1980s that Debbie Harry was at. Dad dabbled. Dad has books you are not allowed to touch because they’re fragile or important or expensive or pornographic in ways that might not be art in the way a teenage daughter understands art.

    Dad isn’t in a hurry, Dad doesn’t follow you around the galleries like Mom does. Dad spends twenty minutes looking at one thing because that thing is very moving or fascinating or troubling to Dad. Dad sometimes peeks over your shoulder and tells you an interesting fact about the thing you are looking at. Mom is lost in a gallery and needs you to guide her. She nervously tells you things that the placards say and you’ve already read the placards and the placards are so pedestrian anyway, Mom.

    Dad says you can pick one book from the bookstore. It has to be a book, not a piece of crap. It’s understood that you’re not supposed to pick the most expensive book, that’s obvious. Dad is going to judge you a little by your selection. Jasper Johns? Well, okay. If that’s what you’re interested in, okay. Dad flips through an art magazine and says that it used to be better. You note this, and you repeat it to a boy you like when your art class goes on a field trip. A momma’s boy, he is wrenched by the neg, and his hotness for you redoubles.

  3. Fox/Mouse/Belt | Mark Manders | 1992 Fox/Mouse/Belt | Mark Manders | 1992
    High Resolution

    Fox/Mouse/Belt | Mark Manders | 1992

  4. Passion, Principle or Both? Deciphering Art Vandalism By TOM RACHMAN

    LONDON — Taking scissors to a van Gogh landscape, smearing paint over a Rembrandt, setting fire to a Leonardo drawing — even imagining such acts can make the stomach clench. We’ll never own these masterpieces, cannot touch them, may never see them up close. Yet their destruction prompts outrage.

    Galleries generally prefer not to discuss attacks on artworks for fear of provoking more of them. Besides, some reason, what is there to gain by dwelling on vandalism? Surely, these crimes are the antithesis of art — the culprits must be brutish or deranged.

    But a new exhibition opening on Wednesday at Tate Britain makes a forceful counterclaim: that certain assaults contain meaning and even insights into history and art. To advance that argument, “Art Under Attack: Histories of British Iconoclasm,” which runs through Jan. 5, presents butchered paintings, decapitated sculptures and other damaged works in a survey of centuries of art vandalism.

    The Tate Britain’s director, Penelope Curtis, said the show has already stirred more anxiety in the art world than she had expected. “The whole show is a concern,” she said. But Ms. Curtis maintains that there is value in pondering the meaning of iconoclasm. “I suppose I’m interested in using galleries to think about difficult questions,” she said.

    Unfortunately, she noted, the issue has become “rather horribly topical” recently. Several attacks have taken place in Britain over the last year.

    In June, a man sprayed paint on a recently completed portrait of Queen Elizabeth II at Westminster Abbey, and another glued a photograph onto a Constable painting in the National Gallery. Most damaging was the defacement of a Rothko mural with permanent marker last October at the Tate Modern, which has required months of restoration.

    Even as these crimes unfolded, the Tate Britain curators persisted in their scholarly labors, surveying 500 years of assaults on British art and coming up with three chief motives: religion, politics and aesthetics. (They ignored “unthinking attacks,” like those by the mentally ill, or the destruction of a work to conceal an art theft from the authorities.)

    One challenge for the show is relying on works that have, by definition, been ruined. Tabitha Barber, a co-curator, cited two stone fragments from Nelson’s Pillar, a monument to that British naval hero that was blown up in Dublin by an offshoot of the Irish Republican Army in Dublin in 1966. “You could walk past those pieces of stone and think they were just pieces of stone,” she said. “But we’ve brought them into an exhibition, put them on a podium, covered them in glass. We’re saying, actually these fragments have power.”

    The power of iconoclasm is especially resonant in Britain, where historical collections were drastically reduced by destruction. The Tate collection, for example, contains nothing dated earlier than 1545, largely because of the razing of religious art after Henry VIII broke from the Roman Catholic Church.

    Among the most prized exhibits in the show is “Dead Christ,” a life-size limestone sculpture from circa 1500-20 that depicts Jesus after the Crucifixion, with blood oozing from his wounds. Its attackers knocked off the crown of thorns, the feet, the right arm and left forearm — an attempt to neutralize the work that only intensifies the image of suffering.

    Destruction during the Reformation and during the English Civil War in the 1640s erased centuries of artistic creation. At best, only 10 percent of medieval British art remains, according to the curators. Other damaged works on display include illuminated manuscripts whose images have been scratched out, smashed stained-glass windows and a lush painted panel scored with blade marks.

    In eras that were not dominated by religious battles, art found itself threatened by politics. The public was often disinclined to honor grand works commissioned by the powerful. Statues of the king proved attractive targets.

    On July 9, 1776, George Washington’s troops in New York flung ropes around a statue of George III, depicted on horseback in the garb of a Roman emperor, and toppled him from his perch, with 4,000 pounds of lead crashing to the ground on Bowling Green. The head was transported to a tavern in present-day Washington Heights; much of the rest was melted into 42,088 bullets for use against British soldiers.

    Adherents of the women’s suffrage movement also occasionally turned on art, choosing targets like art galleries where privileged men might gaze upon nudes. In 1914, a woman attacked Velázquez’s “Rokeby Venus” at the National Gallery, slicing up the back of the recumbent nude, as photographs in the exhibition show.

    Another victim was a portrait of the novelist Henry James by John Singer Sargent at the Royal Academy. The attacker pulled out a meat cleaver and went for his face. “She got at me thrice over before the tomahawk was stayed,” James wrote in response to a condolence note. “I naturally feel very scalped and disfigured, but you will be glad to know that I seem to be pronounced curable.” The work was restored by Sargent himself and appears in the show.

    The exhibition sets out to demonstrate that political assaults on artworks are invariably statements about power, whether it is the assertion of a new authority, as with the toppling of a Saddam Hussein statue after the invasion of Iraq, or a protest against powerlessness, like the attacks by suffragists.

    In the postwar period, aesthetics were often a catalyst for the defacement of art. Today, the public is more accustomed, even blasé, about the provocations of art, but that was not so in Britain during the 1970s.

    In 1976, British newspapers ridiculed the Tate for its purchase of “Equivalent VIII,” a Minimalist sculpture by Carl Andre that consists of 120 firebricks arranged in a rectangle. Amid the outcry, a visitor flung blue dye over the piece, lamenting that taxpayers’ money had been wasted on “this pile of bricks.”

    More recently, contemporary artists have experimented with defacement, appropriating images, changing them and presenting them as fresh works. Jake and Dinos Chapman, known for buying Goya etchings and drawing clown faces and puppy heads on them, are represented in the exhibition with “One Day You Will No Longer Be Loved,” a series for which they purchased Victorian portraits and modified them so that the sitters appear to be decomposing.

    Defacing art to make new art raises unsettling questions. Some might argue that the Chapmans’ act is equivalent to that of the young man who scrawled his name on the Rothko last October and is now serving two years in prison as a result. One major distinction is a legal one, however: the Chapmans buy the art before they deface it.

    No matter how repugnant art attacks may seem, the practice richly deserves study, according to David Freedberg, a professor of art history at Columbia University and the author of “Iconoclasts and Their Motives” (1985).

    “How is it that art matters so much that people should bother to destroy it?” he said in an interview. “What is it about a work of art that arouses such passions? As I’ve always said, love of art and hate of art are two sides of the same medal.”

    (Source: The New York Times)

  5. 1. Video Stone Tower | 박현기 | 1978

    2. Relatum (Formerly Language) | 이우환 | 1971

  6. likeafieldmouse:

Francis Bacon - Study for a Running Dog (1954)
likeafieldmouse:

Francis Bacon - Study for a Running Dog (1954)
    High Resolution

    likeafieldmouse:

    Francis Bacon - Study for a Running Dog (1954)

    (via ilikesweating)

  7. 逝去中的風景 - 經過Ⅱ (Disappearing Landscape - Passing Ⅱ) | Yuan Goang-Ming

  8. sympathyfortheartgallery:

anneboyer:

Museum Label


Sometimes all you need is the label. All you want. All you can handle. sympathyfortheartgallery:

anneboyer:

Museum Label


Sometimes all you need is the label. All you want. All you can handle.
    High Resolution

    sympathyfortheartgallery:

    anneboyer:

    Museum Label

    Sometimes all you need is the label. All you want. All you can handle.

  9. youmightfindyourself:

On this date 23 years ago, two individuals entered the Gardner Museum in Boston, Massachusetts disguised as police officers. After tying up the museum’s real security guards, they spent 83 minutes raiding the facility and emerged with 13 pieces of art including original paintings by Rembrandt, Degas, and Vermeer. In all, the stolen goods were valued at $300 million by the FBI, though other experts say that figure should be closer to $500 million. The Gardner heist remains the single largest property crime in US history, and now more than ever the bureau and museum officials are eager for answers. Today the FBI renewed a campaign to find the missing art relics, offering a $5 million reward for information leading to a successful recovery.
The criminals themselves are essentially cleared of wrongdoing at this point; the statute of limitations on the original theft has already lapsed. Rather than criminal prosecution, the goal now is returning the lifted pieces to the halls of Gardner Museum where they belong. To better the odds of that happening, the FBI wants your help. It’s uploaded high-resolution photos of every painting known to be missing in hopes someone on the internet will come to a stunning revelation. “If you didn’t see these paintings, you’d walk right by them and maybe not take note of them,” says agent Geoff Kelley. “But by trying to get the images out there of these paints and these pieces, hopefully this might resonate with someone.” Aside from the website launched today, federal officials will also appeal to the public via billboards in Connecticut and Philadelphia, two states it believes the pieces were trafficked through. (via)
youmightfindyourself:

On this date 23 years ago, two individuals entered the Gardner Museum in Boston, Massachusetts disguised as police officers. After tying up the museum’s real security guards, they spent 83 minutes raiding the facility and emerged with 13 pieces of art including original paintings by Rembrandt, Degas, and Vermeer. In all, the stolen goods were valued at $300 million by the FBI, though other experts say that figure should be closer to $500 million. The Gardner heist remains the single largest property crime in US history, and now more than ever the bureau and museum officials are eager for answers. Today the FBI renewed a campaign to find the missing art relics, offering a $5 million reward for information leading to a successful recovery.
The criminals themselves are essentially cleared of wrongdoing at this point; the statute of limitations on the original theft has already lapsed. Rather than criminal prosecution, the goal now is returning the lifted pieces to the halls of Gardner Museum where they belong. To better the odds of that happening, the FBI wants your help. It’s uploaded high-resolution photos of every painting known to be missing in hopes someone on the internet will come to a stunning revelation. “If you didn’t see these paintings, you’d walk right by them and maybe not take note of them,” says agent Geoff Kelley. “But by trying to get the images out there of these paints and these pieces, hopefully this might resonate with someone.” Aside from the website launched today, federal officials will also appeal to the public via billboards in Connecticut and Philadelphia, two states it believes the pieces were trafficked through. (via)
    High Resolution

    youmightfindyourself:

    On this date 23 years ago, two individuals entered the Gardner Museum in Boston, Massachusetts disguised as police officers. After tying up the museum’s real security guards, they spent 83 minutes raiding the facility and emerged with 13 pieces of art including original paintings by Rembrandt, Degas, and Vermeer. In all, the stolen goods were valued at $300 million by the FBI, though other experts say that figure should be closer to $500 million. The Gardner heist remains the single largest property crime in US history, and now more than ever the bureau and museum officials are eager for answers. Today the FBI renewed a campaign to find the missing art relics, offering a $5 million reward for information leading to a successful recovery.

    The criminals themselves are essentially cleared of wrongdoing at this point; the statute of limitations on the original theft has already lapsed. Rather than criminal prosecution, the goal now is returning the lifted pieces to the halls of Gardner Museum where they belong. To better the odds of that happening, the FBI wants your help. It’s uploaded high-resolution photos of every painting known to be missing in hopes someone on the internet will come to a stunning revelation. “If you didn’t see these paintings, you’d walk right by them and maybe not take note of them,” says agent Geoff Kelley. “But by trying to get the images out there of these paints and these pieces, hopefully this might resonate with someone.” Aside from the website launched today, federal officials will also appeal to the public via billboards in Connecticut and Philadelphia, two states it believes the pieces were trafficked through. (via)

  10. samwolfeconnelly:

‘Stargazer’
Sam Wolfe Connelly
samwolfeconnelly:

‘Stargazer’
Sam Wolfe Connelly
    High Resolution

    samwolfeconnelly:

    ‘Stargazer’

    Sam Wolfe Connelly