Emphasizing Visitor Experience
Another approach to museum transparency that I admire is that of the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver. When you open the homepage of their recently re-designed website, you’re immediately confronted with two things - museum statistics and the question, “What’s it to you?” This theme of visitor feedback and museum stats are interwoven within the content on every webpage. The strong emphasis they place on public engagement also comes through in the choices they give to their website visitors. The visitor is able to select how they prefer to process certain types of information - for example, would you like to view the exhibition archives organized by images or text? The website tailors it’s content towards the way you’d like to interact with it.
I had an opportunity to speak with the MCA’s Director and Chief Curator, Cydney Payton, on the phone about this focus on visitor experience, and to find out if this idea extends into the galleries as well.
Museums and Transparency
Eyes may be the windows to a person’s soul, but to me, it’s a website. Well, at least into the soul of an institution. Everything put online is a choice, and that says a lot about the beliefs of that particular museum. What do they choose to emphasize and just as importantly - what don’t they? How is the information organized? Do these decisions mirror their mission as an institution? What drew me to museum blogging in the first place was the idea of information transparency. Museums didn’t have to be mysterious shadowy places, where the only discussions allowed were in hushed whispers in the galleries. Visitors could read the behind-the-scenes details of what goes into an exhibition and could engage in discussions with those involved. A few museums take this idea to the next level, by letting visitors not only see into every aspect of the institution but actively interact with it.
One museum that does this particularly well is the Indianapolis Museum of Art. In an interview on the Indianapolis-based blog On the Cusp in 2006, then newly appointed director Max Anderson made a statement which has proven to be true in a very short period of time: “I foresee making the IMA a model of transparency in revealing the collections, exhibitions, programs, and life of a great museum”.
I interviewed Robert Stein, Chief Information Officer and Director of MIS, to ask him about the decision to move in this direction and where they see it going from here:
Artist Interviews: Serkan Ozkaya and Pepe Mar
While working on the interviews for my last post, I had an opportunity to meet two artists who were putting the finishing touches on their respective exhibitions. Serkan Ozkaya’s work A Sudden Gust of Wind is still on view at Boots Contemporary Art Space and Pepe Mar’s exhibition Who Needs Guitars Anymore? is at White Flag Projects.
Georgia Kotretsos, Editor-in-Chief of Boot Print (which is, in my opinion, is one of the best art publications out there; click here for their online archive) interviews Serkan about his work. His piece is a reference to a Jeff Wall’s photograph of the same name, which references the work by Hokusai. Here he describes this connection, as well as the other ideas behind the work:
For additional background on Serkan Ozkaya, check out their website. Among other articles, they link to a great video of his previous project with the New York Times.
At White Flag Projects, Pepe Mar discusses his exhibition with White Flag’s Director, Matthew Strauss. Pepe’s work consists of three-dimensional “monsters,” which confront the viewer with their explosive color and form. Here he talks about his inspiration and why he chose to present his work here:
Three Questions
Boots Contemporary Art Space
White Flag Projects
For my third post about the arts scene in St. Louis, I wanted to get the perspective of two newer arts spaces in town - White Flag Projects and Boots Contemporary Art Space. Both opened about two years ago, and have filled a void - each in their own way - in St. Louis’s contemporary art scene. They often get mentioned together (something I’m perpetuating in this blog post…) but the differences in their outlook on St. Louis are as interesting as their similarities. So I asked the directors - Juan William Chavez from Boots and Matthew Strauss from White Flag - the same three questions.
Question one: What’s the current state of the arts scene in St. Louis?
Question two: What do you think still needs to happen?
Question three: How do you see your organization fitting in?
Through our Neighbor’s Front Window
Stan: our neighbor across the street
Stan has lived on Washington Boulevard in Grand Center since 1995. He used to be a contractor, specializing in rehabs throughout the city, and told me that he has recycled and stabilized over 2,000 housing units. Living on Washington Boulevard – more specifically – directly across the street from the Pulitzer and the Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis, gives him an interesting vantage point on our organizations and their impact on the neighborhood. The Pulitzer and the Contemporary share a courtyard and a blog (which you’ve already bookmarked, right??).
Over bowls of blueberries and nuts in his kitchen, he described a neighborhood that’s dramatically shifted in the 13 years he’s been living here. Grand Center’s heyday – when the area was referred to as “Midtown” - was in the 1930s and 40s. It was the entertainment district in the city. Here’s what it looked like back then:
As with many urban neighborhoods, the 1970s and ’80s were not kind to Grand Center. When Stan moved in in 1995, the neighborhood was consistently rough – an image the area still is struggling to overcome. He described how the Fox Theatre – now an anchor in the district – was just wrapping up a major renovation after years of disrepair. The other arts institutions in the neighborhood at the time consisted of a struggling Sheldon Concert Hall and Powell Symphony Hall. But through the development of a CID (Community Improvement District) and increased security, the neighborhood started on a steady incline. In 2001, the Pulitzer opened, with the Contemporary Art Museum of St. Louis following not far behind in 2003.
After their opening, Stan noticed young people starting to come back to the neighborhood. The Contemporary’s active programming started bringing people into the district. More galleries followed, and art walks throughout the neighborhood became more and more successful. He’s seen Grand Center go from an area where no one would dare walk the streets at night, to groups walking between the Light Project artworks at all hours.
After our meeting, a few more questions struck me. I couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like to witness such a dramatic shift in the neighborhood and to watch the evolution of two arts institutions through my front windows. So I followed up with a few more questions: “What did you think when you heard the Pulitzer and the Contemporary were opening across the street from you? Have your perception of these institutions changed over the years? Have you noticed an impact on the area since they opened?”
Here’s what he had to say:
Continue reading »
Art in St. Louis
A view of St. Louis (taken from my roof!)
I wanted to give Art21 readers a sense of the arts landscape in St. Louis, but it’s a tall order to try to encapsulate a whole scene into a single blog post. So I thought I would break this down into three very differently styled posts. I’m hoping that collectively they’ll give you a glimpse (albeit, tiny) into the arts scene of our city.
First up: One of our strengths is the diversity of institutions—from large and encyclopedic to small and artist-run. However, to showcase this diversity, I didn’t want to give you the typical PR-style “this is our mission statement” type of information. So I emailed my colleagues at some of the non-profit arts spaces around town and requested that they find someone you wouldn’t typically ask (i.e. no curators or directors) to answer the following question:
“What’s something that people wouldn’t know about your institution, but you think is interesting or unique?”
Here are the responses:
Documenting The Light Project
Wrapping up my previous post’s theme of installation—the online catalogue for the Pulitzer’s outdoor exhibition, The Light Project, allowed me to humor my love of the installation process on a whole new level.
Some background: In conjunction with our exhibition indoors, Dan Flavin: Constructed Light, The Light Project includes four outdoor light-based works installed in the neighborhood surrounding the Pulitzer. We collaborated with three local arts organizations: the Saint Louis Art Museum, the Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis and White Flag Projects, which each curated a work in the project.
A major component of this project was a commitment to interaction with our neighborhood, Grand Center (you’ll be hearing more about this area in my StL-themed posts next week). Each work of art was installed outdoors and within walking distance to encourage exploration in this normally quiet (and at times, pretty desolate) area.
Not just interaction, but also the transformation of these neighborhood locations, meant that we wanted to showcase this development online and give visitors a platform to provide feedback. The month prior to the opening, the installation of each artwork could be tracked on mini-blogs within our web catalogue. Users could watch each work of art come to life and leave comments to let us know what they thought of the process. In addition, each work of art is very different (with very different installation challenges), making their development all the more interesting to watch.
Installing Art
Art installation = my favorite time to blog. In fact, while writing this, I found an embarrassing number of posts about installation in our archives. I think it plays into why I like blogging in the first place - they are the ultimate behind-the-scenes stories of how exhibitions come to life. I like hearing how they figure out how to handle an installation, I like harassing our registrars about their jobs (which they love too ….*cough cough*) and what I really like are installations of works that are extra challenging (and usually very heavy). Two of my favorite examples also happen to be from an Art:21 artist: Richard Serra.
Richard Serra’s works present a range of installation challenges. Our facilities manager Steve Morby calls his works an “instable stability…when they’re assembled they are relatively stable, the problem comes when you start to disassemble or put them together.” Before we opened our exhibition Dan Flavin: Constructed Light, we de-installed two works from the galleries. Standpoint and Joplin were highly complex (i.e. HEAVY) works to move. Here’s Steve explaining how they handled this:
Aside from the building itself, I think our most dramatic undertaking has to be Serra’s work Joe. One of my first installation posts, I think it’s still my favorite and worth re-visiting. The story is complete with ocean steamers from Germany, Mississippi River barges, and the biggest crane in St. Louis…..want more?
What is this place, anyway?
Starting my job as the public relations coordinator at the Pulitzer meant getting a crash course on how to answer all of our “Frequently Asked Questions”: when we opened, who’s the architect, our hours, exhibition dates, etc. I also got a crash course on what I’ll call the “Frequently Asked Misconceptions”:
Are all these works a part of the Pulitzer family collection? Don’t you need reservations to get inside? Why are you never open? Why don’t you have labels? Aren’t you a museum?
Not surprisingly, there are a LOT of questions. But all of these nuances (though sometimes challenging to communicate in, say, a succinct press release) makes this place what it is—a fascinating, evolving, experimental museum that’s not a museum.
The Pulitzer was originally intended to house large-scale sculptures in the Pulitzer collection. It quickly evolved into a space where exhibitions are chosen in relation to the architecture, instead of an art historical narration or presenting works from a specific collection. Works within the exhibitions are on loan from a variety of public and private collections. The visitor’s personal experience with the art is key; therefore there are no labels to detract from your immediate aesthetic experience with the work. We provide exhibition booklets at our front desk as an option for further information. Tadao Ando, the building’s architect, was recommended to the founder Emily Rauh Pulitzer and her late husband Joseph Pulitzer, via Richard Serra and Ellsworth Kelly. Two of the four works owned by the institution are commissioned works by these artists. We’re free to the public, and no reservations are necessary. We are only open on Wednesday and Saturdays, so we can remain flexible to explore other types of programming that would use the gallery spaces. I could go on and on (like I said, it’s hard to write succinctly), but hopefully through these posts, I’ll be able to give you an idea of what the institution is, where it seems to be heading, and get thoughts and feedback from all of you.
Our board chairman, Bill Bush, summed it up nicely in a recent interview for Boot Print (more to come on that publication too):
“Our development in this short period of time is very different from that of other art institutions: instead of following existing role models, we are defining ourselves institutionally as we go.”
Greetings from St. Louis
My name is Rachel Gagnon, and I’m writing from the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts - a “non-museum” located in the middle of a city that’s located in the middle of America.
The Pulitzer has been in St. Louis for seven years now, and I’ve been a part of it for over four of them. Like many young arts organizations, the Pulitzer has grown dramatically over the years and continues to evolve. Unlike many, we’re difficult to define, which can be considered a part of our identity too – hence the “non-museum” part. Over the next few posts I’ll be writing about that, our approach to exhibitions and programming, blog and web topics (of course!) and the arts landscape that we’re a part of in this city. Stay tuned!
