Posts Tagged ‘James Turrell’
When I read the news this week that LACMA is bringing back its legendary Art and Technology Program, I basically freaked out. But before I get into the new program I wanted to re-explore the original program. (I knew this grad school paper would come in useful for something.) I gleefully just re-read the program’s catalogue: A Report on the Art and Technology program of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Long title, amaaaaazing read.
ART AND TECHNOLOGY PROGRAM, 1967 – 1971
In 1967, the five-year-old Los Angeles County Museum of Art began a multi-year project called The Art & Technology Program. The Program placed artists into residencies within technology companies with the intention that these corporations facilitate and/or fabricate the creation of new works, which would be shown in a culminating exhibition at the museum. The Art and Technology Program was the brainchild of LACMA’s curator of Modern Art, Maurice Tuchman. Read the rest of this entry »
“Even though Eli is not involved with the museum any longer, his name is still on that building. We should have never called it a museum. How can LACMA have a museum? LACMA is the museum.”
– Lynda Resnick, LACMA Trustee[i]
In February 2008, the Broad Contemporary Art Museum (BCAM) opened at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). The Renzo Piano-designed BCAM is not an autonomous museum; it is one of several buildings on LACMA’s museum campus (the largest American art museum west of Chicago).
LACMA was founded in 1961, when it seceded from the Los Angeles Museum of History, Science and Art in Exposition Park. The new art museum opened in 1965 with three buildings designed by William Pereira: the Bing, Ahmanson and Hammer buildings. In 1986, the Art of the Americas Building (then the Anderson Building) opened, and was followed in 1988, with the Pavilion for Japanese Art. The museum continued to grow when LACMA purchased the neighboring May Company department store building in 1994. (LACMA is currently collaborating with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to bring a museum to the vacant building.[ii]) In 2001, plans for a tabula rasa campus designed by Rem Koolhaas were scrapped due to its ambitious scale (all existing buildings would have been raised) and lack of public support (a proposed bill would have provided public funds for the project, but was not passed by voters[iii]). Then in 2004, the board approved a multi-year capital campaign called Transformation.[iv]
Michael Govan, Wallis Annenberg Director and CEO of LACMA, inherited Transformation when he took LACMA’s helm in 2006 (little more than a year before BCAM’s inauguration). Exciting, high profile, high-cost building projects are Govan’s specialty. Before coming to LACMA, Govan had been the director of the Dia Art Foundation where he oversaw the renovation of an old Nabisco factory in the Hudson River Valley, into Dia Beacon—a gargantuan facility capable of housing many large-scale, contemporary art installations. Before Dia, Govan worked under Richard Armstrong at the Guggenheim Foundation and aided in the realization of the Guggenheim Bilbao. Govan had the resume required to lead LACMA during Transformation. Eli Broad was on the search committee that lured Govan to LACMA.[v]
Los Angeles County Museum of Art
LACMA’s New Topographics, which runs through January 3, is a recreation (but actually a curation of a curation) of a show that was originally presented in the Rochester New York at the International Museum of Photography, George Eastman House, in 1975. Apparently the originally show drew a limited amount of viewers: it was winter, and there was a lot of snow…The Center for Creative Photography in Tucson decided this show was so pivotal that they wanted to recreate it and bring the show to several venues, one of which was LACMA.
The show at LACMA was curated by Edward Robinson, but Britt Salveson probably had a lot to do with the shows incarnation at LACMA as well. Salveson was the director and chief curator at the Center for Creative Photography. Somewhere around the time of this show coming into existence Salveson was sucked up into LACMA and is now the head of both the Wallis Annenberg Department of Photography and the Department of Prints and Drawings. Check out an interview with Salveson here.
LACMA has spent a lot of time and effort on this show, as is evidence to the mini webpages devoted to each of the ten artists in the show found here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. Further tribute to the importance LACMA now places on photography is the space that New Topographics inhabits. The second floor of the BCAM is half taken up by New Topographics, the other half photographic self portraits (this is the first time the whole second floor of BCAM has been all and only photography.)
The space is actually immense when considering the size of the exhibition. LACMA brags that the two thirds of total work from the original exhibition is in this reincarnation. This is an impressive number; however LACMA has two times as much gallery space compared to the Eastman House. Yikes, this means a lot of white wall. The many colored walls of Your Bright Future have been reformed back into the blinding white cube.
Despite the several issues with labeling, and the issue of curating an already-curated show, I mush say I think the curator was very creative in dealing with the issue of massive space and a smaller amount of content. In some rooms this was done better than in others.
This room was given to Robert Adams. A single line of same sized photos hugged two walls drawing the eye along from left to right. Several vitrines had an awkward presence in the room. These vitrines were there for context apparently, Ruscha’s Every Building on the Sunset Strip, and several other Rucha books were included to show how the design of these books influenced the exhibition catalogue of the original New Topographics. These vitrines seems like a bad way of filling an otherwise sadly empty room, and the things inside the cases were not clearly defined as not being part of the original exhibition.
This room was very evenly spaced: two walls each for the two artists, Nixon and Gohlke. These photos weren’t in any particular dialogue with one another. I thought the Gohlke spoke more to the Adams in the previous room or to the Wessel in the following room. Nixon’s photographs of Boston were some of my favorite works in the show, clean and new and seemingly promising.
The Gohlke works brought up an interesting point about the information provided. The work below on the right had a caption which said the photo was taken in ’74, and that it was printed in ’75. Was LACMA bragging about having one of the original photographs? I noticed that the curators were irresponsibly inconsistent with providing this information and distinguishing the dates these photos were printed, and informing the viewers what was an original print.
The Wessel photos in the next room spoke volumes to the Gohlke not just because they both featured barren Los Angeles Landscapes. These amused me for a while trying to figure out their locations, they are all so seemingly familiar, and also very nondescript.
Baltz’s work was also in this room across from Wessel. His series of buildings from industrial park in Irvine were clustered together in a grid in the center of the wall, which for a minute almost distracted me from the inappropriately high white ceilings.
The third photographer featured in this room was Shore. These photos stood out because they were the only in the show that were color photographs, and they were big. I was informed that at the time these photos were originally taken such large-sized color photos would not have been possible to print, so clearly these were printed more recently, a fact that LACMA curators did not point out. Nor did they point out the fact that they had changed the scale of the photos which dramatically impacted my reception of the work. Shame shame.
Deal’s many untitled views of Albuquerque attempted to flood an entire wall in this room, barely managing to fill the space. And then finally a successful attempt at filling the space. The curators attempted the same corner-hugging line of installation used in room one with the photos by Schott. These photos were all from a series where Schott documented Motels along Route 66. The crazy architecture of these buildings flows from image to image around the corner like following an arrow-shaped street sign.
This room was entirely used for the husband and wife team Bernd and Hilla Becher, artist nine and ten. The series of mine architecture and coal manufacturing plants were hung in groupings. One of the works in this room was from the original New Topographics (the tarnished silver frame signified this) was actually a series set into a grouping in the same frame. All the other works in addition to being hung on high, stark white walls, were also framed with in white frames. Oh the little details like frames!
After this last official room of the works from the original New Topographics came two other (what LACMA would say were) contextualizing rooms. In the one room with windows opening up onto Wilshire Boulevard were works by Smithson, Graham and my favorite Turrell. The Turrell piece was a sort of ephemera from his Roden Crater project which makes me go crazy whenever I think about it.
In the final room, which was a kind of screening room was the space created by the Center for Land Use Interpretation. On the far wall was projected a commissioned piece about oil and landscape with a bench set in front of it. Along another wall were two computers for viewing the Center’s website. Plastered above the computers where poster for some of the center’s previous exhibitions which looked like a college student’s dorm room. And obnoxiously there was another living room type space. I mentioned this in the Beuys inquisition were LACMA curators set up an awkward sitting area with cushy chairs and reading materials.
So final conclusions: The photographs in the exhibition spoke for themselves; there was no need for all the extra stuff that was supposed there for context. Sure there was a lot of white walls, but if the curators had just embraced the white expanse full heartedly instead of half-heartedly the installation would have been far superior.