The Guggenheim Museum: Louise Bourgeois Retrospective

In honor of Louise Bourgeois’ seventy-year long career the Guggenheim Museum hosted a retrospective exhibition of the iconic figure’s art. The exhibition monopolized the museum’s rotunda perfectly complementing the French-born artist’s artwork. However, admittedly I expected slightly more grandeur. After seeing Cai Guo-Qiang’s Exploding Cars suspended almost weightlessly from the Guggenheim ceiling, the pair of cocoon-like pods were more than disappointing. Imagine the curatorial possibilities Bourgeois’ sculpture lends to a space like the Guggenheim.

The absence of Bourgeois’ spiders was equally as frustrating as the inclusion of the paintings displayed from her early period. Appearing to be ordinary studies or models for the artist’s sculpture the paintings seemed elementary. However this notion was rejected by the wall postings, which seemed to be more embellishment then straight fact. Additionally the postings were clearly geared towards art historians or someone well versed in art historical theory and vocabulary that was unsuitable for a show viewed by a diverse audience.

The exhibition was set up chronologically highlighting each period in Bourgeois’ career. To borrow words from the “Wack: Art and the Feminist Revolution” exhibition catalogue Bourgeois’ work is “an assault on patriarchal psychic and social structures by envisioning new models of gender that cannot be understood in terms of simple opposition between male and female”. In Personages the non-sexed beings all have their own personalities created with different woods, colors, and added embellishments. The stick-like figures were spread out unable to engage or confront one another the way her other works do such as Night Garden or One and Others or Eye to Eye. The primitive beings feel isolated and self-contained. According to the wall posting Personages was exhibited in 1949 at the New York’s Peridot Gallery, however the figures were grouped together as if they were conversing. The sprawling arrangement of the piece is misunderstanding to the viewer and directly contradicts Bourgeois’ ongoing motif of relationships.

Bourgeois’ work quotes personal memories and the emotional scars that follow them. A spectator may never fully understand the extent of pain and betrayal the artist felt by her father’s extramarital affairs but through repetitive themes and motifs her poignant wounds become more and more apparent. She gives the viewer a taste of her personal trauma by allowing them to peer into her Cells through keyholes and door jams like a voyeur creating a fortress for her emotions. Bourgeois revisits the association between the body and architecture over and over again. The notion is most present in her works Confrontation, Cells, and the Fabric Sculptures. She uses cloth in her Fabric Sculptures to lend a flesh like effect to her sculpture further alluding to the body. The intimacy of the two ambiguous bodies in Couple IV references back to the artist’s fascination with relationships but also how we perceive “human experience in the most raw, unflinching, and elemental terms”.

Howard Halle, writer for Time Out New York addresses how Bourgeois is often “perceived as a pioneering feminist artist” but she really is nothing like the stereotypical feminist artist because her work “isn’t tendentious or even vaguely interested in consciousness-raising, and while it does make frequent references to the body—especially sexual anatomy—it does so in a way that is highly ambiguous”. Halle’s words perplexed me since I felt the exhibition presented Bourgeois as the godmother to feminist art. Georgina Silica agrees saying, “it follows that this show…attempts to recast Bourgeois’ work as explicitly feminist”.

Halle goes on to say that Bourgeois is just “one of the boys, which is why major institutions like the Guggenheim love her” and of course will exhibit her work. These comments not only discredit feminist art but also the museum. Why would a glorified institution such as the Guggenheim waste it’s time on feminist artists or female artists for that matter unless of course they are just “one of the boys”. Its laughable since the Guggenheim is now exhibiting Catherine Opie, a well-known photographer often referred to as a feminist artist. Opie’s work was even exhibited in the Brooklyn Museum’s “Global Feminisms” exhibition last year. Perhaps Bourgeois has become overexposed leaving her impervious to criticism. Believe me there is no one more thrilled to see a female artist who has lived most of her life in the shadows emerging as an icon but despite the artist’s establishment the exhibition was assiduous and repetitive not unlike Bourgeois’ career.

The Lehmann Maupin Gallery: Jennifer Steinkamp

The torrent of poisonous flora cascading down the walls of the Lower Eastside Lehmann Maupin Gallery is the ever-brilliant work of Jennifer Steinkamp. The digital artist and long time pioneer for the medium presents two delightful pieces of new media. Even more attractive are the distinctive narratives and Op art derivatives. Unlike Bridget Riley's infamous work that creates the feeling of motion Steinkamp's work in truth is moving.

Upon entering the gallery the viewer is immediately mesmerized by the fading rainbow of clouds. The abstract projection is a play on God's body parts cleverly dubbed "Left Clavicle". The piece is part of a series and not surprisingly evokes stained glass often seen in Cathedrals. The light from the outside makes the projection faint and the colors appear washed out. The colors fade into one another in an unexplainable way. The artist rejects rules of warm and cool colors; blues border pinks while greens and oranges flank one another.

Unlike "Left Clavicle" Steinkamp's other work "Daisy Bell" is figurative. The piece features flowers swaying in a ghost like breeze that move down the wall in a hypnotic fashion. As if a basket of flowers fell from the sky. Each unique flower appears as it does in nature but was produced by a computer generated program. Using nature as her inspiration and technology as her vehicle, Steinkamp artfully blends contradicting elements of synthetic and organic. With careful examination one can see the two bands of projected imagery fusing in the middle of the wall. The carefully calculated computer program is the heart of the piece but aesthetics is the most valued aspect.

Analogous to the way Italian Renaissance masters considered doorways and the function of a space when conceptualizing frescos Steinkamp takes full advantage of the architectural context of the gallery. The verticality of the space and the fact that the artist uses every inch of the wall further perpetuates a whole new world of brightly hued billowy clouds or floral patterns reminiscent Victorian wallpaper. Her beautiful optical illusions create a truly wonderful visual experience. Similar to watching a film the viewer is completely enveloped by darkness allowing them to escape and interact with the work by walking through the projection ultimately becoming part of the work.

The American Folk Art Museum

The American Folk Art Museum is an institution devoted to commemorating and displaying often unknown or shadowy personas of our American past through traditionally handmade artworks. In spite of this, its stone structure shares little character with the artwork that inhabits it. Folk art generally reflects craft traditions produced by people of little or no artistic education often with a provenance that is unknown or less then distinguished. Thus, when entering a space devoted to such work one would expect something homier. The wooden benches and gallery floors attempt to add warmth but in the end the stark, cold, textured cement prevails virtually destroying its role as a bearer of our cultural inheritance. The building merely feels like an extension of the Museum of Modern Art. Perhaps this is because the two museums are next door to one another.

Nonetheless a museum should be molded to its collection. When viewing Renaissance art I expect to see gold frames illuminated by warm lighting. The same goes for viewing contemporary art. The sterile white walls and slick lines provide a minimalist impression necessary for viewing contemporary pieces. The Metropolitan Museum phenomenally creates a new feeling and setting when visitors move from the Greek art section to the Cloisters and onto the more contemporary works.

One redeeming quality is how art is integrated into public spaces, such as the lobby, stairwells, hallways, and niches throughout the building offering continuity for the audience. Additionally the wall postings for the Asa Ames: Occupation Sculpting exhibition were exceptional. Providing an ample amount of information on an almost unknown American figure. Each piece exhibited is given its own informational wall posting. Unfortunately this was not consistent in the museums other exhibition “Dargerism: Contemporary Artists and Henry Darger”.

It is only fitting that the American Folk Art Museum would feature an exhibit commemorating Darger and his subsequent followers. Coined as an outsider, Darger certainly fits the mold of a folk artist whose self-taught genius and diligence is all inspiring. One thing is for sure the works displayed beside Darger’s are equally peculiar. However, there is a lost sense of emotional poignancy. Justine Lieberman’s photographs of ambiguous prepubescent bodies with child beauty queen faces inserted in Darger like landscapes seems like a even more eccentric attempt to update or recontextualize.

Amy Cutler has a better idea of paying homage to Darger with originality. Cutler’s piece Monkey Bars (2001) depicts a clashing group of girls battling in all different challenging positions on monkey bars. The muted tonality of the piece is further substantiated by the girls’ blue and white uniform dresses. The connected long hair and sameness of the girls force the viewer to question if this is just one girl battling her own internal war. Cutler presents a narrative not unlike a magical fairy tale or Sunday morning comic or even Darger’s Vivian Girls. Both Darger and Cutler include tribes of girls in conflict. Darger’s girls of course struggling to free children from slavery while Cutler’s battle to liberate themselves from domestic tedium. This message of is even clearer in Cutler’s piece, Traction (2002) where four girls fight to escape a house that appears to be a factory of girls with endless braided hair.

The exhibition overall is oddly setup and scattered. There are informational wall posting on many of the artists featured but not all creating a sort of hierarchy of whose work is more valid. Darger is mixed in amongst the more contemporary artists. Surely this was intentional but it lacks continuity and devalues some of Darger’s work.

The main problem with the exhibition is it leaves the viewer questioning the motives of the curator. Why pair this artist so well known for being an outsider with formally educated artists or insiders? Most certainly the fact that Darger has become something of a celebrity is a major factor. His work has not only inspired an “ism” undoubtedly fabricated by curator but also music mentioning Darger by Snakefinger to a full blown ballad for him by Natalie Merchant. Darger has a mythic stature not unlike his epic story that is oddly alluring. The artists featured with Darger appear inauthentic to be featured at a folk art museum. “Folk” implies ordinary or common people, which would preclude an extensive education. The inclusion of academically trained artists is a break from the institution’s ostensible mission. Although the architecture does not reflect its occupants the institution brilliantly convinces the viewer that folk art is noteworthy and precious enough to warrant being housed in its own museum.