Journal Posting #2: Night at the Museum
I was staring at an ugly piece of stained glass, absent-mindedly deriding it with my friend when suddenly, we transcended and began to look at it as Art. From that moment, we no longer saw it simply marring its surroundings; we didn’t discover any beauty but we found that it held a deeper meaning, making it worth more than just the quick perusal we meant to give it. I found it interesting that as we continued on, we found it harder to find the meaning of “beautiful” pieces than in those dubbed “ugly”. Maybe it’s because we so often accept the beautiful just because it is so. The ugly confronts us and forces us to make sense of it, to justify its existence. For this reason, I think it’s important that we resist the urge to reject a work just because we don’t find it aesthetically pleasing. Take a Thomas Kinkade for example. His work (though kitschy) is generally thought to have some skill and the subject matter is so bland that no one could ever take real offense.
Then examine Warhol’s Big Electric Chair.
This work does not have the same level of skill as Kinkade’s but it is of a much more divisive subject. One could argue Warhol is simply exploiting the death chamber, not to create art but simple shock factor. And they could be right. On the other hand, though, Warhol could be using the piece to make a statement about capital punishment. Without Warhol’s own opinion given to us, the audience is left to duke it out and attribute the work with their own meaning. I doubt any such debates could rage over Kinkade’s placid paintings. Though Kinkade may be the more skilled of the two, Warhol has produced the better art.
I appreciate the feeling of hesitantly walking through the doors of a new experience not knowing what is about to happen. Entering into Macaulay’s Night at the Museum, I had no idea what to expect. I purposefully had ignored the video of last year’s Night at the Museum that was sent to my e-mail. I wanted to judge it for myself without preconceived notions of what it should be. My first observation was of the museum itself. I was amazed at the size and beauty of the museum, standing tall as its own work of art. I examined the tall ceilings, the columns, the bright lighting. In the assembly room, I felt as if I was at a gala affair walking beneath the chandeliers. Somehow I felt underdressed, despite almost everyone’s wearing ripped jeans and t-shirts. Although I am usually nervous or uncomfortable in foreign situations, I felt at home in this environment because I was surrounded by my newly found Macaulay family. I enjoyed getting to know the students in my group and hearing their views on the artwork. I was very surprised by which works of art caused the most discussion among my group. The artwork that I thought would lead to a flowing conversation resulted in two minutes simple observations. However, the art towards which I did not expect myself or my group to have a strong reaction led to almost ten minutes of in depth analysis. One piece of artwork that stands out in my mind is a painting of a storm in the Rocky Mountains. It spanned from one side of the wall to the other. At first glance, I thought each person would express the same few thoughts, that the painting was beautiful and must have taken a long time to paint. The end.That’s about it. However, when my group and I began to examine the painting in detail, we not only had endless observations, but also endless question for the painter. We wanted to know what the storm represented, if the painter actually witnessed this storm or just imagined or heard about it, and who the people in the painting were. We began to come up with possible answers to these questions. Maybe the storm represented a storm we encounter in life, or the situations the we have no control over. Maybe this painting was a combination of many different situations the painter had witnessed. At the end of the night, we left the museum with a tape recorder filled with opinions, minds filled with thoughts, and bellies filled with apples.
Brooklyn Museum
Entering the Brooklyn Museum was like entering a bookstore. Whenever I visit Barnes and Nobles or any other local bookstore, I always tend to freeze in the doorway. My eyes start to take in the newly released books on display, the magazines stacked up in the corner and the shelves of books throughout the store; seeing this my brain can’t decide where to go first. The Brooklyn Museum produced the same reaction. I was frozen in the entrance because I couldn’t seem to decide where to start. I had five floors to explore and countless works of art to see in a limited period of time. I decided to employ my usual strategy, to start in one corner and work my way around.
As I entered the 5th floor and saw the rows upon rows of exquisite paintings, I was a little disheartened for a moment. Myself and my other two group members did not have a deep knowledge of paintings and we were unsure of what to speak into the recorder. We decided to simply describe the paintings and express the reaction they produced inside us. Surprisingly, we spent over 5-10 minutes over each and every painting that we analyzed. I realized that my eyes were my greatest assets and I felt like I could go on and on about the little details and specific brushstrokes in the painting. My partners would notice information that I missed and together we would exhaust over selves over the tiny details throughout the painting.
In the museum I was particularly drawn towards portraits, especially of young women. Every time I saw a young woman pose a certain way, dress a certain way or even have a certain look in her eye, I would always look for clues to try to relate myself to her. My favorite painting was Lydia Field Emmet by William Merrit Chase, which depicted Emmet in such a particular pose that spoke volumes about her character.
As soon as I saw that painting, I had the peculiar feeling that Emmet must have been an independent woman. She stands with a nonchalant stance that gives the impression that she is not concerned with what people may think or say about her. After researching his painting, I found out that Emmet was also a painter and she was educated in her early life by William Chase. Emmet’s pose and the particular way she placed her elbow at her hip, was very surprising because I had not seen many paintings of woman that depicted them with an independent spirit. Overall the museum proved to be full of treasures, that I am glad I have found.
Painting: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/79/Brooklyn_Museum_-_Lydia_Field_Emmet_-_William_Merritt_Chase_-_overall.jpg
Anna Kryukova – Journal #2
One aspect that I particularly enjoyed during the Macaulay Night at the Museum event was the historic artifact part of the Brooklyn Museum. During our exploration our group gravitated towards the display of elaborate African crosses and a display that contained a beaded hat that we learned was a kings way of showing his power and status. It was interesting to see the actual artifacts and learn about the history of the places they came from. The first thing I noticed when I looked at the elaborate crosses was that they looked a lot like Christian Orthodox crosses and by talking amongst our group we realized that Ethiopia was in fact largely influenced by the Byzantine empire. I found it interesting exploring the different cultures and uncovering reasons behind certain art pieces that were influenced by the history of the region. Evidence of cultural diffusion was largely present in many exhibits throughout the museum. I connected this to the discussion we had in class that “art is not made in a vacuum” and the visit to the Brooklyn Museum is a clear validation of that statement. The exhibit entitled “Connection Cultures” offered a comprehensive look at the different art forms and how they connect to one another. Taking a look at two different paintings of the Niagara Falls we learned that it meant very different concepts to the artists that painted them. In one painting the Niagara Falls was shown from the Canadian side as a way of showing distance and alienation from the American culture and we found it interesting that the artist took on the role of the “by stand observer from a different side. The artist was in fact American but he painted the picture during a time or war and it shows his tension and the alienation with his country. This exhibit allowed me to look critical at the art not only in the context of the time period but also urged me to make connections between the cultures and the objects that were presented. The themes of “connecting people,” “connecting cultures,” and “connecting things,” were the three reoccurring themes in this exhibit. I found it interesting that you can look at an object and see it for just what it is but when it is deliberately juxtaposed with another selected object it can gain a different meaning.
I have a little thing called short term memory loss so naturally I tend to forget things that happened to me five seconds ago, therefore I find the task of recalling an event that occurred over a week ago to be particularly troublesome. In any case, the bit of the Brooklyn museum that had the most impact on me, and therefore was preserved in my brain was not what I saw, but what someone said, which completely changed my view of museums.
I remember the actual trip to the museum to be very exciting. I liked the thought of museums; it actually astounded me that I could stand beside possibly life-sized totem poles and be in touching distance of a seemingly real coffin or be so captivated by the Native American ghost dance video that I would actually be in fear for my life. While I held a very enthusiastic outlook on the museum I noticed that one of my group members seemed detached from the entire experience, like she would want nothing more than to be out of the place, ASAP! When she later revealed why she had been so aloof she ended up changing my perception of what I thought was this magical bridge to the ancient world. She told me that museums are scams; that they’re just a show of man-made exhibits and artifacts in ruthless attempt to loot naïve tourists. Her statement was devastating to hear, and it instantaneously changed my mindset about museums. This is similar to something we discussed in class about how descriptions of a painting often times color our eyes to see the painting a completely different way and prohibit us from seeing the painting in any other way than the way described. After my group member’s accusation my vision was similarly colored so that I could no longer see the museum in any other light. It was all just one big scam, every painting, every sculpture, every piece of furniture on display, everything. What was worse was my skepticism was only heightened when I went to the a room on the 5th floor which held a clutter of furniture, chairs, side tables, clocks, vases, and other décor all with labels of how much the item is worth, as if to shove in our faces the fact that we were all viewing this stuff for free!
Ultimately, while there must’ve been some exhibits that caught my attention, the thing that I can’t shake from my memory is what my group member said, and that is what I wish the most to forget, because I feel her accusation deeply scarred my imagination.