Art Markets (and Creative Grove): Democratising or Demeaning?

The brand new Creative Grove art market kicked off yesterday at the Grove Street PATH, and it got me wondering about the social standing of such pedestrian (literally) events within the artistic community.

From a "fine art" perspective (aside from selling your work on a street corner) an outdoor booth is about as low on the totem pole as you can get. People: normal, common-denominator people, stop by, talk about your pieces, and--heaven forbid--sometimes try to touch them. But why does this sort of public display strike so many artists as demeaning, rather than as an opportunity for community engagement? Is it the nature of fine art to want to ascend into some otherworldly cloud and escape the prying eyes of the "less-enlightened", does wanting to withdraw really just highlight the fears these artists have about how the general public will react to their work, or is it merely pragmatic (how much do they actually sell-really)?

Showing in a gallery, or even at an established fine art fair (outdoors or not), is not the same thing as popping up a table at a major-transit-hub art market that also sells baby t-shirts. It all comes down to audience, and it's in this sense that Creative Grove is extremely democratic. Who knows what it will become as it continues (hopefully) to grow, but for the moment it is really smack dab at the intersection of art and life--and I like that.

Perhaps it's a romantic notion, but I really believe--or want to believe--that someone off the street can walk up to a great work of art, recognize its communicative or aesthetic value, and be moved enough to take it home. And I don't think that's anything for an artist to be ashamed of. I'm really not talking commercial design, or even screen-printed t-shirts, though they are an important first step in getting people comfortable with the idea of fine art, but rather drawings or paintings that aren't as instinctively functional. Jersey City isn't quite there yet. I think we need more jewelry and decorative wall-hangings before we can fully jump into the swampy territory of fine art markets and develop the more limited audience they rely on to survive.

Ultimately I think this type of market can serve as a source of civic artistic empowerment, but what's your take?

Note: Creative Grove will continue to run every Friday with a rotating group of artists and craftspeople throughout the summer.

The Hudson Current is dead

The bells have tolled for the Current. In more disappointing news on the local print media front, I heard today that the Hudson Reporter newsgroup will no longer be publishing the arts/ entertainment weekly. According to the editor, the Hudson Reporter will instead become a bi-weekly publication with some cultural listings. It's nice to see that the Reporter will be coming out more frequently, but...Jersey City has just lost its only dedicated arts publication.

UPDATE: Sean Allocca (former Current writer/editor) will no longer be on staff, but may be contributing freelance to the new bi-weekly Reporter. All future cultural or arts submissions should go straight to the chain's editor: editor@hudsonreporter.com

As my personal rants about the lack of arts coverage in the press seem to be falling on deaf ears, I'm taking this one step further. From now on, I am declaring myself Jersey City art media guru. Call it what you will, but I'll be posting the reviews (go ahead and demonize me) and features I've been longing to see right here.

The Met’s New American Wing

The New Engelhard Court

Every renovation the Metropolitan Museum made in the last twenty years or so has made the art experience better and better (unlike another museum I could mention). The light brought into the Greek and Roman Galleries is so beautiful, and their collection looks so stunning, I literally get high walking around. The new 19th C. galleries are harmoniously proportioned, richly warm spaces that were cleverly carved out of the Polynesian Wing’s soaring ceiling, and the catacombs under the grand staircase are an absolute delight. And of course the Chinese, Japanese and Egyptian galleries are some of the best in the world.

The old Engelhard Court (from the Bridge and Tunnel Club website).

But I’m sorry to say I’m disappointed with the renovation of the American Wing, at least with the Engelhard Court. Without the greenery, the sunken areas and the different color pavements that used to break up the space, the new court feels too large, too public and too empty. It lost the warm ambiance of the older space (see below) and it’s now more of a dull open plaza than an inviting sculpture garden. The new space does allow more sculpture to be displayed but, not being a fan of this period of American art (which I think is provincial, pretentious and sometimes downright silly), I don’t see that as worth the trade-off.

South Wall with loggia designed by Louis Comfort Tiffany

East Wall with the Vanderbilt Mantelpiece

The five-story south wall housing the pillared loggia designed by Louis Comfort Tiffany for his own home is especially blank looking, and ridiculously out of scale with the art. (Fortunately the opposite wall, the facade of Martin E. Thompson’s Branch Bank of the United States, hasn’t changed.) Likewise, the east wall (coming in, on the right) is comically out of scale with what’s installed there - the Vanderbilt Mantelpiece and Tiffany’s Garden Landscape and Fountain -- but at the same time these works feel weirdly cramped in the space.

This disturbing, contradictory combination of simultaneously being too open and too cramped extends to the Cafe. It is no longer separated from the main space by a lattice fence, so it feels too much a part of the larger court; nevertheless it feels confined because of the low ceiling needed to accommodate the new mezzanine. This is made even more of a problem because the windows overlooking Central Park have been temporarily frosted to hide an ugly staging area for construction they’re doing on the second floor galleries (see photo of staging area below). They promise the view will return in 2011.

Which brings me to another complaint: there are no comfortable places to sit and rest at the Met anymore. A cement bench or busy cafe just won’t do it. Before the cafe was added a few years ago, they had comfortable chairs overlooking Central Park where people could sit quietly, read, maybe take a nap, and rest up. The Brooklyn Museum has lately created many comfortable areas to sit, and the Frick is unsurpassed in that way (as well as every other possible way). In spite of all the past great additions and renovations, I’m beginning to get the feeling that the Met just wants to move the crowds along, maybe feed them in an efficient manner, sell a few books and art chachkas, and move 'em out.


Finally, speaking of cramped spaces, I’m reluctant to spoil the surprise, but an unintended (I assume) surreal treat awaits you in the newly renovated period rooms. Take the new glass elevator in the northeast corner of the Court to the oldest period rooms on the top floor, and you'll see what I mean. You might find a portal into John Malkovitch’s mind there.

Getting off at floor number 2 1/2.

My Favorite Record Album Covers

A recent post by Jonathan Jones, a passionate and insightful blogger about art for The Guardian discusses the banning of the Manic Street Preachers’ new album cover painted by Jenny Saville because it is so shocking (see above). It is a very powerful image, and it got me thinking about how I used to savor a great album cover as much as the music. Anyway here are my top ten favorites:

Art Jargon

I came across a zany British website that generates art nonsense (which they charmingly call "art bollocks") to describe art and impress people. Check it out, it's a real hoot. Just refresh the page to generate more inanities; some are better than others.

It got me thinking of some recent art jargon I find particularly grating: "art practice." "performative," and "agent." Feel free to join in.

Well...maybe not.

Music taken from The Who, A Quick One, While He's Away.

A New Gallery Plus ?

Photo by Jule Pike, FIFI projects

What promises to be a good new gallery just opened in the Lower East Side: FIFI projects, 29 Essex Street.

Even though the gallery is small, their first show is a seven-person exhibition of really handsome large photographs. I particularly loved the largest work (75” x 40”), by Mathias Kessler (no relation), of an iceberg in Greenland shot at night using movie lighting. Barbara Kasten (she showed with John Weber -- I miss seeing her work) used to do a similar thing, but used mirrors and brightly colored gels.

Another space also just opened in the area -- 169 Bowery: Collective Hardware. At first I didn't know if it was a gallery or what it was. The entire, relatively raw, ground floor had an exhibition by Steve Olson, but the door was wide open and no one was sitting the show. I heard talk upstairs so I walked up a flight and there were some people sitting around what looked like a living room in a large loft with a hair salon in the front. I asked them if this was a gallery and they said they didn’t know anything about the place and just wandered in like me, but they pointed to a guy passing by that might know. I asked him and got a major Charles Chamot type schpeel.

It’s a collective all right -- the entire building. FIVE stories! And it indeed includes a gallery and a hair salon, but also a clothing design studio and show room, a recording studio, a special effects studio and probably a lot more than I could take in from the guy. Their website isn’t completed yet, but he promised it would be ready soon. It isn’t far from the New Museum; check it out when you’re in the area.

NYTimes on Claes Oldenburg

Check out Carol Kino's article today about Claes Oldenburg and the late Coosje van Bruggen, his recently deceased wife and collaborator. (Click on the title of this post for a link to it.) Now approaching 41 years of marriage myself I may be particularly empathetic, but I was quite moved.

This was the first article in a long time in the Sunday Arts & Leisure section that I found worth reading -- the articles on art, that is. I don't get it. The articles are much longer than the weekly ones, and they're usually by good writers and on interesting topics. Am I the only one that feels this way?

Why isn't Jersey City Art a big deal? (because the press doesn't make it one)

In every city I've lived in new museum shows and elaborate cultural events created buzz. Trustees, board members, politicians, and artistic pundits would all crawl out from their meeting rooms to support (if only for the price of admission) the latest event on the artistic calendar. The newspaper would be there, snapping grainy photographs of the elites in action, and though I didn't always agree with the deference given to social rank and financial power at these happenings, their media presence ensured the status of both the hosting institution and the art they advocated for.

The Jersey City Museum had it's annual Artrageous Ball two weeks ago, and the press hasn't even whispered. According to the museum, 200+ people attended the event (its biggest fundraiser of the year) including the mayor, other government officials, and high-ranking professionals with a soft spot for the creative. Regardless of how I feel about the tangled web of artist/museum/patron relations--this is news.

Events like this are more than just fundraisers providing money needed to keep cultural organizations up and running (the museum will put these proceeds towards operating expenses- not such a sexy sell), they are reminders that the arts are a powerful force deserving of community recognition and respect. When the Jersey City Museum's press releases never go any further than it's own website and a few message boards, that's a failure--not of the organization, but of the local media. In fact, it's an affront.

I know art is sometimes difficult to understand and that the Jersey City press as a whole is wobbling already, but the reason we as a community tend to undervalue the Museum and our own artistic production is due in part to a lack of media attention. The museum contributes to the health and vibrancy of this community, but we so rarely hear about it that it's easy to forget what it has done, what it's working towards, and what it stands for. But the fact remains that it is a museum, "a permanent institution in the service of society and of its development, open to the public, which acquires, conserves, researches, communicates and exhibits the tangible and intangible heritage of humanity...", in charge of representing the finest art Jersey City has to offer and exposing it so we--the public--can better understand our own existence here and now.

Museums can put on bad shows too (and it's important to recognize that), but the press has got to step up to the plate and say "art matters". It's not the quality of Jersey City art that is sub par; it's the media coverage that makes it so.

PS. I write art features for JCI and they actually run them; thanks for covering the art news the Jersey Journal and Hudson Reporter often don't. If you've got an idea for a story-drop me a line.

Its Our Factory

It’s Our Factory

Industrial Sites / Art Destinations

Tom McGlynn

The city of North Adams, MA is situated in the northwest corner of Massachusetts. Once home to over 20,000 residents, this former industrial stronghold has seen its population decrease to approximately 16,000 in recent years.
   Sprague Electric moved into the site for what would prove to be a forty-plus year occupation. During this time, North Adams essentially became a company town-- at one point, about a quarter of the city's workers were employed by the company. A distinct workers' society sprung up within Sprague-- replete with publications, parties, and banquets-- which won the loyalty of many, even as their unions only slowly managed to get Sprague to increase the wages and benefits offered by the company to its employees. The complex on Marshall Street-- largely vacated in 1986-- once again faced a period of uncertainty and transition, with many of its former workers left feeling betrayed and bitter by the company's evacuation and confused about what to do next. Although the idea of bringing in another manufacturer to take Sprague's place was bandied about, the potential for traditional industry endeavors in western         Massachusetts was rather limited, and instead plans for a new museum featuring contemporary art were developed, proposing to change the city's economic focus from traditional production-oriented facilities to one based on new "high" technologically-oriented fields and tourism. The Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art (MassMoCA) opened in 1998, after a decade-long battle to obtain adequate funding and iron out a feasible development plan. It proposes to provide a boost to the struggling economy of the city, but will not employ nearly as many people (at least directly) as its predecessors. The nature of the project also leaves many residents wondering how the character of their living environment will be affected by the project, and looking to the past to help explain the present and move on toward the future.   from the North Adams Research Guide

On the ride home from Mass Moca, I had a conversation with Mike Weins, one of my senior art students from Castleton State College, over the border in Vermont, about the strangeness of viewing a contemporary art show (the late Sol Lewitt’s wall drawings) that was scheduled to last for the next 25 years. Mass Moca had followed the precedent of decades long semi- permanent or permanent “contemporary” shows that Dia initiated in 1977 with Walter De Maria’s Lightning Field and Earth Room, This tradition is continued at Dia Beacon in upstate New York, another vast and formerly productive site of manufacture.

Dia: Beacon, Riggio Galleries 
Dia was a pioneer in converting large industrial buildings for the installation of contemporary art—a practice now widely used by museums internationally. Dia’s latest such conversion, its museum in Beacon, is located in a former printing plant built in 1929 by Nabisco (National Biscuit Company). 
     Dia:Beacon’s expansive spaces are uniquely suited to the needs of large-scale installations, paintings, and sculptures. In keeping with Dia’s history of single-artist, site-related presentations each gallery in the museum was designed specifically for the art it contains. This includes Warhol’s 1978-79 multipart work Shadows, displayed in a single installation measuring approximately 350 linear feet; two of Beuys’s mixed-media installations, Arena—dove sarei arrivato se fossi stato intelligente! (Arena—where would I have got if I had been intelligent!), 1970-72, and Aus Berlin: Neues vom Kojoten (From Berlin: News from the Coyote), 1979, together with several of his Fonds (1979); Darboven’s monumental Kulturgeschichte 1880–1983 (Cultural History 1880–1983), 1980–83 (note: this work is currently deinstalled for conservation); De Maria’s multipart stainless steel sculpture The Equal Area Series (1976–77); selections from Flavin’s series of fluorescent light “monuments” to V. Tatlin (1964–81); and Heizer’s North, East, South, West (1967/2002), among others. The reflected north light from more than 34,000 square feet of skylights creates ideal viewing conditions, evidenced in the galleries devoted to the paintings of Kawara, Martin, Palermo, and Ryman.
     Dia collaborated with American artist Robert Irwin and architect OpenOffice to formulate the plan for the museum building and its exterior setting and grounds. The plan includes an entrance court and parking lot with a grove of flowering fruit trees and a formal garden, both of which were designed by Irwin.   from Dia's website

The concept of a museum- mausoleum had congealed in our lifetimes like the hardening arteries of a distraught octogenarian college football player dreaming about his glory days suspended in nursing home disbelief. Joseph Beuys’ Social Sculpture ideal gets co-opted by picturesque representations of rustic Empire.
“They’re assimilating our present experience” I lectured Mike in a pedantic rant. "That’s the mission. The gift shop, even, really isn’t the point of commodification. The real commodity being exchanged here is our dead mental labor. There’s no actionable intelligence here my friend, that is, the time folded back on itself suffocates aesthetic aspiration.” He looked at me with respectful partial comprehension, as if to say ” Time must really matter to you dude ”.  “Yes” I telepathically replied,  "I’m much more sensitive than your nascent self to the stench of immortality waved beneath my nose, as if my lack of critical presence needs to be revived by an aura of contemporary art that retains its contemporaneous-ness, paradoxically ad infinitum."

From the factory complex gangways the  spirits of the makers chant:

We vacate the lofts and factories for all this silly stuff. We don’t drive no Mercury, or anything quite substantial enough. The welfare state of Wal-Mart has colonized our hearts. Any day there’ll come a cleansing Tide to return us to machine parts.

   “Yes Mike, I hate to tell you, that your inheritance of facture is intact but virtually useless,” I grumble. He nods and looks ahead. 

We pass by Greek Revival farmhouses and low security correctional facilities. The sunset evokes a Sanford Gifford.